


A Secret Light, A Sacred Fire

by EiooRae



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fix-It, Force Healing, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Post-Solo: A Star Wars Story, Psychological Trauma, Redemption, Romance, Slow Burn, i have taken matters into my own hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-07-13 03:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16009130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EiooRae/pseuds/EiooRae
Summary: Is it possible to start over, and what would it take? Qi'ra thought she had made a choice from which there was no turning back, and arrived on Dathomir prepared to answer for it. But Maul's reaction was not one that she had expected.





	1. Last Bit of Life Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this chapter I was listening to 'Retreat' from BBC's War & Peace score on repeat. It really evokes what I was picturing in my head.

 

 

Qi'ra paced nervously in her quarters, every once in a while glancing out of the viewport. She was no more sure of her fate now than she was when the gates of the checkpoint had slammed in her face on Corellia.

"Han..." she thought, her mind spelling out the name as her thoughts wandered back to him. She sincerely hoped he would be okay.

"As long as he's got Chewie with him, he will be," she found a way to quiet her concerns somewhat.

It was strange to have crossed paths with him again after all this time, especially given the way those three years inbetween had changed her. She had fallen back to the embrace of her past feelings for a moment or two, but had soon sensed a disconnection. What he resurfaced in her was no longer true to how she really felt. He was still the same, that sweet Han that she had fallen for. But she was no longer the same woman. And to him, whom she had become, that woman had gone unnoticed. There was nothing left to hold on to, for his reaction to her was to a memory.

There was no future in the cards for them, and wishful thinking wouldn't change that. Han was still much like the boy she'd known – daring, optimistic, exciting and pulsating with a sincere and magnetic warmth. Something far more precious than anything a smuggler should be. Despite his charm, he remained simultaneously impatient and in the long run fickle and unreliable.

Qi'ra had changed in the span of that time, having grown from a street-smart Corellian brat to a woman determined to survive the many moods and whims of the men who saw themselves in charge of her fate. It was easier to succeed in this when she was able to conceal her vulnerabilities, as one needen't look far for someone eager to exploit such attachment.

Under a restrained facade lay a heavy heart, aware of the hurt she had herself caused, a heart longing to feel the freedom to choose for herself and for the love of someone who saw beneath the many faces she had assumed for others.

Inside, she had never let her fate snuff out the light of hope, but it was a secret fire, a sacred fire, and she alone was its keeper.

Even after all that had been said and done, she regarded Han as a friend. Always. He may have been reckless, but that was a luxury she would not afford herself. Not knowing the fate awaiting her, she would not condemn him to it. At least one of them had to get out of this mess alive. Otherwise, what would the struggle and all those losses have amounted to if neither found true freedom?

She shut her eyes in an attempt to keep back the tears that were now welling up.

"Chewie, please keep him safe," she whispered to herself.

Looking out of the viewport again, Savareen was now but a bright orb in the distance, and First Light was getting ready to make the jump into hyperspace. It would be a long journey – Dathomir lay all the way across the Galaxy, on the other side of the Core Worlds in the Quelli sector, about a day's travel past Mandalore.

* * *

Nearly ten days had passed when the star yacht finally dropped out of hyperspace and started its agonizing descent on Dathomir. From above, the planet looked anything but inhabitable, its ominous red glow sending out a warning to anyone that might have strayed there, only emphasized now when the crimson light of its central star penetrated the atmosphere at an angle that made it appear ablaze in a wildfire.

In her mind, Qi'ra kept editing the version of the events she wanted to present to her true master. Her betrayal of Dryden would not remain secret for long and, for all she knew, the news would likely reach him long before she did. 

Crimson Dawn's operations were spreading far and wide across the galaxy. She herself had worked diligently to ensure this and make herself hard to replace. Once she had earned her position as Dryden's second in command, the latter had found himself forced to include her in the secret meetings he had with Maul. That is how she'd first learned his identity, and simultaneously found out how Dryden had reached out to him from onboard the yacht.

Her role had remained entirely passive in his presence until a few standard weeks ago. Maul had contacted her directly while Dryden had conveniently been away. He had insisted that Qi'ra report directly to him on any and all peculiarities that stood out in Dryden's dealings. The direct request to spy on her superior had come as no small surprise, but she'd known better than to analyze its significance in too much depth, for she was aware how tempting it was to overestimate it and just how grave the consequences could be. Yet, something about it wouldn't let her feel at ease.

Vos might have only been a business front for the syndicate, but the image he had built mattered a great deal. It had been carefully crafted and curated. Even as a puppet only executing orders he had received from above, Dryden was not one to be easily replaced. However illicit and shady the dealings the business relationships relied not only on fear, but required trust. Regardless of its frailty, that trust had taken time and effort to build.

By killing Vos, she had not only betrayed her commander, but undermined Crimson Dawn at large. That remained true regardless of the motivations behind Maul's request. She had pried the ring from Dryden's lifeless finger, and by doing so she had also made a choice from which there was no turning back.

And now she had come here to answer for all of it.

* * *

Every minute seemed like an uncomfortable eternity as First Light glided towards its destination. What had appeared as a flaming red orb in the vast darkness of space now had distinct continents. It wasn't long before she could already make out the terrain – alternating between lush vegetation, swamplands chasing the horizon, mountain ranges that bulked up like jagged teeth, lined up on open jaws, awaiting its prey.

Soon the craft dropped altitude, moving over the sharp peaks like a knife cutting through air. It was barely an hour past high noon, but nothing broke the red twilight reigning here. Qi'ra spotted a series of overgrown ruins, and a heaviness set into her limbs as she took in the sight. This had nothing to do with her own fate, and everything to do with the fate of Dathomir. This world itself was in mourning, and no sign of life could be found in this half-light. Something about the destruction dealt here felt so final to her. She was vaguely aware of a massacre that took place here – courtesy of the separatists – but what she saw now was the destruction of a whole people, their world and a way of life.

Her eyes rose from the ruins to meet her destination in the distance. A peak rising from the surrounding forest, casting an ominous shadow against the red sky.

"This must be it," she thought and struggled to exhale steadily.

There was nothing resembling a landing pad in sight, but she took it she had arrived in the right place when she sighted another few ships at the foot of the mountain. As the yacht approached she noticed a few guards here and there, droids scuttling about, moving cargo.

The extravagantly decorated starcraft touched down with elegant ease, barely making a sound. The effortlessness of the landing was in no way reflected in how Qi'ra felt about her arrival, but there was no going back now. She knew that she had her own part in the forging of whatever fate she had come to greet here. Any hesitation would only give away her reason for concern. Gathering her courage and trying to steady her heart, she made it to the elevator.

She walked down the ramp in cautious steps and looked up, to take in the sight. Barely registering the rest of the surroundings she felt something pulling her straight towards the massive body of rock, as if it were the center of gravity.

A facade was carved into this side of the mountain. A row of massive pillars in the shapes of women, supporting the overhanging rock above, and between them a massive stone face, its gaping mouth forming an entrance.

Upon a quick glance, there didn't seem to be anyone with the intent of engaging her. That wasn't perhaps the welcome she had expected, but a far more promising start than any of the scenarios for which she had been prepared. She felt her experience caution her all the more because of it, and the blasters hanging from her hips felt more decorative than anything as she took her first steps into the darkness.

The coldness of the air hit her suddenly as she entered the tunnel. The instincts she had tried to quieten were heightened.

"Don't you dare lose your nerve now," she muttered as she braced herself.

The light was minimal, coming from a source she could not quite determine. Her steps cautious and light, she placed one foot in front of the other so many times that she stopped paying attention to her movements or whether anyone had heard her walking. She focused entirely on scaling the darkness, rushing towards her destination. She rounded one more bend, and of a sudden there it was.

Her blue eyes took in this world within a world, lit by a glow of the same hue. She was paralyzed by the sight, weighed down by the heaviness in her chest and tugged by the invisible force that had led her down there.

The enormity of the cave was hard to gauge, expanding beyond her sight into the unknown. The tunnel had opened up to a bridge connecting it with the first of what seemed to be massive columns, broader at the base with enough room on the slopes to be built on. And so, each of those pillars was circled by three or more levels of structures, carved from the same stone comprising houses, temples and galleries, stairs, bridges and balconies all lined with lanterns unlit. The only light remaining now was that of the iridescent water, moving slowly in the glowing pools, falling in narrow streams from the darkness above, evoking eternity.

And that's when she saw him. A dark shadow outlined against the light of the water, standing in complete stillness on a leveled mass of rock in the middle of the cave. Deep in thought, with his head down and hands joined behind his back, the figure remained seemingly undisturbed by her approach as she made her way towards him with quiet resolve.

* * *

Something in the Force kept prodding at Maul, telling him to come back to the present, but his eyes remained transfixed on the iridescent pool. Whether it was some lingering remnant of Nightsister magic or the oppressing weight of everything that he hadn't yet figured out, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the water. The persistent motion seemed to him like the last bit of life left here in the wake of the massacre.

His mind was clearer now than it had been for a very long time, but he couldn't completely fight the hypnotic effect that only grew more potent the longer his gaze held it. A moment grew into several, becoming a while, growing longer. The water was like a conduit of dark energies with a will of its own, locking his mind into a downward spiral.

Whether or not he could admit it, he was still hoping to find meaning, a place, a belonging, something that would be his own, and not handed to him by any master. The thought left a bitterness on his tongue. He had believed that coming to this place one more time would show him his path. Instead, what he found was a world sunk into ruin, much like he was, reminding him everything from which he had hoped to escape.

He felt a growing irritation erupting at the thought that there was something that both he and the water had in common, both giving the apparent sense of movement when remaining stagnant. The longer he looked at it, the emptier he felt. Perhaps he too was just a dead thing, his body moving with no life left inside.

Realizing he would not find any answers here, his mind began to clear just as he sensed something else intruding into his awareness. He had detected a signature of fear without having to make any effort to read the presence, and knew instinctively whom it was. He could feel it before she'd exited her ship, but it was mixed with something else. She had not come to apologize or to beg. The woman's presence in the Force was like an electric breeze vibrating through him now that she was so close. He snapped back into the moment. She was here.

* * *

Qi'ra was already crossing the last bridge when the shadowy form slowly turned around and moved forward to meet her. There was something reflexive rising to the surface in response to Maul approaching her. Despite being expected, despite external composure and a certain awareness of what to expect of him, she had to will her legs forward.

Once she had locked her eyes onto the advancing figure, she couldn't remove them, in the same breath realizing the source of the pull. The dark form grew more distinct with each step she advanced, until she could make out the solid frame of a warrior, draped in black.

She had seen him before in holographic form, but true sight of him still came as a surprise.

The bluish glow of the surrounding water outlined a crown of sharp horns above strong cheekbones and a defined jawline, all of his features emphasized by the symmetrical tattoos covering his face, and–

But most striking of all were his eyes, flaming in amber tones. Much like his home planet, they glowed as if lit from within.

Finally standing before him, she bowed cautiously, a gesture Maul returned to her surprise. The Zabrak's expression was impossible to read with certainty, but he was struggling to hide the ongoing conflict below the surface. It seemed as if he was himself unsure how this would unfold.

To her surprise, what she saw in the eyes of the man looking down at her was neither anger nor accusation. More than anything else, it was an all-encompassing tiredness, mixed with something else she couldn't quite fathom. He was looking at her as if trying to find an answer to a question far more complex than simply inquiring about her guilt.

Qi'ra found her eyes drawn away from his unexpected gaze, making their way down across all the places where red skin met black, until they came to a halt on his chest where the golden gleam of the familiar Crimson Dawn emblem hung. No further thought fully formed before the sound of his voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Qi'ra," she heard her name ring in a voice far too soft and mellow for someone this dangerous. This put her more on the defensive.

"Lord Maul–" she started, but found herself all out of ideas.

Suddenly she was unsure if she should remain as silent or seize the first opportunity to start justifying herself. Somehow neither felt like it would increase her chances of redeeming the fact that the public face of the syndicate was now orbiting Savareen among various other kinds of space trash.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” he said casually, putting an end to her inner monologue.

“Oh. I wasn’t there when it happened. So I wasn't really in harm's way,” Qi'ra prevaricated, regretting it instantly.

Maul gave her a look that let her know just how obvious the lie had been, equally irritated and amused, but there was something else in his expression too that she could not decipher.

“Save it for someone who doesn't have such easy access to your thoughts," he said in an dismissive tone.

"I trained him myself, in Teräs Käsi. You either surpass all expectations or were just lucky to beat him in combat."

The man's face resumed its unreadable expression.

"In any case, you are here now. That is... a relief.” His last words stretched out, as if to emphasize their generosity.

“A relief?! I–” she couldn’t hide her surprise.

Qi'ra was stunned by his overall lack of concern for Dryden's death, her role in it and her subsequent ill-advised attempt to lie about it. This was definitely not one of the scenarios that she had played through in her head.

“But... I don’t understand. You know I killed him, but you act as if I have done you a favor?”

"You did," Maul replied with resolve, furrowing his brow.

"There is a reason I contacted you directly, which I'm sure you've realized by now," Maul's tone sounding as if he was trying to distance himself somehow. He looked over her shoulder briefly, before setting his eyes back on her.

"Don't play stupid. It doesn't suit you," he replied to the question he read on Qi'ra's face. His tone was growing impatient, while his eyes retained some inexplicable understanding.

"I'm–" she began, but stopped herself as she caught his look.

"You know exactly what he was like," he continued, while turning to the water again.

"He was clever, I'll give him that. But even that came second to his greed and thirst for power. The sycophancy, it was only feigned, allowing him to move closer to real power – or so he thought – in his hubris believing that his true motivations would go unnoticed as long as he played his role and remained agreeable with me."

The corners of his mouth curled into a snarl at the thought.

"He may have been the face of the operation, but he was a greedy fool, arrogantly believing that he would be so easily trusted, in return for ass-kissing."

The Zabrak's face contorted into a grimace that was split between a smirk and heartfelt disgust.

"In time he only grew bolder, but not a single one of his indiscretions remained a secret to me. I also have you to thank. You may have betrayed him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you have betrayed me."

Qi'ra was unable to look at him, but she could feel him fixed on her.

"I trust you will make better decisions in the future," he concluded.

* * *

Maul felt mighty foolish, registering just how out of the norm this was for him, a fact he took no comfort in, not at the idea that he'd allow someone to _prove_ their worth and loyalty, but that he hadn't even properly considered the risks such a chance would entail and whether it was really worth his gamble.

He was trying to remember what exactly had led him to believe that this was a good idea, giving her a chance to prove herself to be smarter than Vos. Would she not have learned from Dryden's obvious mistakes and perhaps succeed where her former boss had failed? The thought gnawed at him.

Why did he even want her to be loyal to him? Though she had been Dryden's lieutenant, and though she may have shown greater loyalty to him than to that greedy piece of filth, in the greater scheme of things she remained of no apparent importance.

He had somehow arrived at an answer that felt obvious, and yet, why exactly it was, he really couldn't say. Salvaging her from this ordeal, he thought, was something he would have once considered simply done out of laziness. What other purpose could she serve that would amount to more than it already had?

But she had come, after all. She had contacted him straight away. She was afraid, and he could tell just how much, but she had braved that fear and met him face-to-face. Something about that was tugging at him. He cringed ever so slightly when he realized what that feeling was.

At some point he had started pacing but was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a moment to notice his movements. When he did, he turned around so suddenly that it made the titanium bearings in his cybernetic knees release a cutting sound that came unexpectedly to them both.

Maul caught her looking at his most recent pair of feet that peeked out from under his long cape. Despite her best efforts, she could not hide her reaction from him but, to his surprise, it was neither disgust nor pity that he saw reflected in her face. If anything, she looked saddened, something else he was not prepared for.

The man's eyes dropped to the ground between them and he stood there for a moment with a perplexed look on his face. He had just realized how he would test her loyalty.

"There's somewhere I have to go, and you will be coming with me. Pack what you need, we're leaving shortly and won't return for a while," he announced after a moment of silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went easy on the tags not to give away too much, but I will do my best to provide the next chapter very soon and will also update rating and tags as I go. Meanwhile you can also find me on Tumblr: @taule


	2. Taking Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qi'ra and Maul head to Sakhmet Pri 5, one of the two moons of Anobis, the chosen location for Maul's arguably reckless attempt to have a whole body again.

Qi'ra was frantically going through her belongings, trying to discern what she would be needing on this voyage of unknown length and destination. Could he really not spare her more than “30 minutes”, which was all she had been afforded? The sound of the freighter powering up could be heard, and something told her to be ready in 20 instead. She had no intention of testing his patience just now when she had been granted a chance to make herself useful.

She looked down at the capacious travel container laid on the bed that remained empty. It was hard for her to determine whom to pack for. Was she going as a Crimson Dawn lieutenant on probation, as bait or as someone that would now have to take over Dryden’s function in the syndicate?

Qi’ra knew Maul wasn’t the kind of man to bring her along to some social function. No, this was definitely not the occasion, and so her decision had been made: she had to take the risk of going as her own self. Dryden could be fooled with a bit of flattery, but this was an entirely different kind of man. There was nothing she possessed that he could not see past.

Having gathered the essentials, she took one last look at everything she was leaving behind and realized how little of it was really hers. The thought lingered in her mind and filled her with an unexpected lightness as she marched towards the freighter. It appeared to be a heavily modified HWK-1000. Judging by the armaments that the standard model lacked, this was likely one of the prototypes that had ended up on the black market after changing hands between smugglers and the like. She had thought it an odd choice for transportation, considering the alternatives that must have been available to Crimson Dawn. Was this to be some kind of delivery or retrieval that required so large a cargo space that would obviate the need of a crew — yet none was in sight?

Walking up the freighter’s ramp she paused before making it through the threshold. She expected to find an impatient Zabrak waiting for her, but that was not the view that opened up to her. There were stacks of crates and containers of all sizes everywhere, fastened together and anchored to the walls. She noticed a set of three inactive medical droids in what could only be described as transportation casings, alongside another two droids that looked as if their main area of expertise would be lifting heavy objects.

Her eyes, moving around trying to compute the meaning of all this, suddenly came to a halt on a figure staring straight at her, pale pink flesh and a disproportionately bulbous head with scrambled features, bobbing on a slender frame. To describe him as humanoid would have been a stretch. The Bith staring at her remained passive, merely tilting his head slightly.

"You?!" he spoke in an incredulous tone.

"So you're the one he picked for this purpose?" his cold, dry voice dragged out the words.

Her stunned face hinted that he had just divulged more that she had been deemed privy to by Maul himself.

Qi'ra on the other hand realized what had happened, and thought it best to pretend that she was perfectly aware of what the mission was about.

"And you are...?" she inquired in return.

"Jiden Ip're. Doctor," he said with some reluctance, the reply raising more questions than it had answered.

The Bith looking as they did, his face was impossible to read, as those lidless domes of black onyx did not give away anything. Qi'ra realized this was about as much as she would get from him without some sort of a go-ahead from the man in charge. She preferred not to even think about what he specialized in and how exactly he had acquired such credentials.

Having only taken a few steps forward, the hatch closed behind her, signaling that it was time for whatever was waiting ahead.

* * *

She found Maul already seated behind the controls in the cockpit. His movements were lofty, confident and comfortable, each motion executed with ease and the kind of precision that could only come with muscle memory. A freighter such as this was not what she imagined he would fly - had she not known who he was, she might have mistaken him for a smuggler.

He didn't turn to look at her, but her arrival was known to him before she ever stepped onboard.

"Took you long enough. Are you waiting for something? Take a seat," sounded his impatient instruction, as he nodded his head towards the seat next to him.

Nothing about his demeanor implied he was talkative, but the sudden avalanche of questions in her mind threatened to bury her. She was painfully aware of being on thin ice. After all, this was her one chance to redeem herself, and grating on him in any capacity would not aide her in this.

She tried to distract her racing mind by focusing on what he was doing, letting her eyes follow his movements around the controls, hoping to catch a glimpse of the data he was entering. The man’s hands moved down from the switches overhead to rest on the yoke, drawing her attention down with them. That was when her eyes fell on his thighs — rather, what should have been his thighs, if he’d had them.

What she was looking at was instead a pair of robust cybernetic limbs, assembled from various metals - intricate mechanisms encased by streamlined panels, mimicking muscles in order to give his artificial appendages enough mobility to replace what he had lost.  

The last time she had seen him on the yacht had revealed his legs were amputated from knees down, but she hadn't realized that the prosthetics extended so much higher. Her eyes cautiously traveled upward to his hips, only to discover that everything from waist down, was substituted.

Qi'ra felt a weight form in her stomach as she realized the extent of his injuries. Her eyes had lingered just a moment too long, enough for him to have noticed.

"Need a closer look?" he hissed.

"N- My apologies, I-" Qi'ra stuttered her reply. "I didn't realize..."

"Save it,” he spat.

“I know what it looks like,” he continued with a growl. “I know exactly what's left of me, and I’ve heard the questions that are all so loud in the forefront of your thoughts since you laid eyes on me, wondering how I can function at all, being practically half-droid. I know what people assume. I-"

“Why am I here?” she interrupted him, the question so abrupt that she had asked it before she had time to contemplate the risk, in some odd way putting an end to his spiraling.

Maul stared at her, bewildered. The woman’s fear from mere moments ago was gone, having been replaced by clarity and impatience. Her mind was a chaotic crisscross of questions and calculations, organizing itself into an urgency-based hierarchy, all neatly packed away behind an expression struggling to remain collected.

In the chaos he found a hint of something he had sensed there before, still as surprising. Her presence in the Force was immediate, and she wasn’t retreating in fear trying to find a way out, but was instead looking for the truth. She wanted to be told her place in all this.

“I’m tired,” he sighed, turning his head and averting his eyes in the wake of this sudden confession.

“Why are _you_ here, you want to know? Because there isn’t anyone else. Because there is no one left that I trust more, or enough to test that trust. And given that I don’t trust you, that should say enough.”

Qi’ra had opened her mouth to speak, but closed immediately it as his eyes moved back to her.

“What I’m planning to do requires assistance, but puts me into a unique situation, and prevents me from seeking said assistance from someone else in my command. Someone that _you haven’t yet killed_ ,” he drawled, placing particular emphasis on the last few words.

“Those loyal to me, aren’t so out of particular fondness for my person. They’re drawn to power like night creatures to light. It is in their nature to seek out perceived weakness and use it to their own advantage. The nature of this mission, as you will soon realize, will make me vulnerable to such exploitation. I thought I had to give up the idea until I learned of Dryden’s… timely death,” the corner of his mouth curled to a faint smirk.

“It presented me with a unique opportunity. There’s no use in trying to run from Crimson Dawn, which left you with few alternatives while offering me one. You might have been Dryden’s second in command, but you hold no position in the greater hierarchy among the ranks of the organization. They owe you no allegiance and your only way of redeeming the losses you have caused and earning such a place… is through _me_.”

He never raised his voice, but it was the cold calculating tone that unnerved her. Her only relief, however deceptive, was that he was communicating his plans rather than letting her sit in silence.

“Hand me your comlink,” he demanded, reaching out his left hand, while maneuvering their takeoff with the other.

Qi’ra reluctantly placed the little device into his rough palm, only to witness it being crushed to tiny pieces the moment his fingers closed around it, a reminder of his sheer physical strength. The effect of this display on her was was not lost on Maul.

“ _Now_ I can tell you why you’re here.”

He threw her a quick look, to make sure he still held her full attention, then continued, “If you think, by looking at them,” letting his eyes fall to his legs, “that you can imagine what it feels like to live as a half of your complete being, I assure you — you don’t.”

Qi’ra had been sitting silently the whole time, tense and waiting for him to erupt in anger, expecting a tantrum the likes of which had become so familiar to her in the time she had known Dryden. Instead, an exhaustion seeped back into his expression, the same kind she had noticed before. Maul looked simultaneously present and impossibly far away, appearing to feel the full weight of his years.

There was a long moment of silence, and Qi’ra observed Dathomir falling into the distance, before his voice drew her focus back to him.

“My life was not my own until there wasn’t enough left of me to be worthy of being used,” he murmured, his voice more gravelly than before. His bitterness and sense of loss were perceptible and Qi’ra felt the distinct discomfort of being the sole audience to such a confession. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, not wanting to hit another nerve.

“Like I said, I’m tired,” he sighed. “That’s why you’re here,” he then added, turning to look at her before exhaling slowly. “That shady-looking Bith back there,” he bobbed his head towards the back of the freighter, “he’s _agreed_ to attempt to operate on me.”

“Attempt?!” Qi’ra broke her silence with a yelp. “So you’re not actually sure that this is going to work? And, what is this operation for? How do you think he can help you? He’s not even a Force-user! What has he promised you, exactly?” she couldn’t stop the interrogative avalanche.

“He is going to help me with regeneration,” came the forcefully calm reply, while his face was starting to twist into a snarl.“ Let me remind you that you’re not here for your _expert advice_ or to change my mind,” the Dathomirian’s voice lowered into a growl.

The moment the woman seemed to finally understand what he expected of her, she found another button to push. Maul was beginning to think that he had been terribly wrong, and that his impulsive decision to include her in this would have yet untold consequences.

“Now, as to what you are here for, specifically,” his tone insisting that she not try his patience again.

“It’s quite simple”, he continued. “You are here to make sure the doctor does his part, but _more_ importantly, ...” he paused.

“On the occasion that something goes wrong... If it happens that I don’t wake up, that I am left otherwise crippled… to a greater extent than I am now...”

“You are to terminate me,” he sternly concluded after a moment.

For a moment she was confident that she had misheard, but the look on his face was not inviting protest or commentary, and she realized that he was being serious. She was expected to do as told.

“I just-” she started cautiously, observing a crease forming between his brows as his eyes narrowed.

“You were going to ask me why I would risk all that I have when the chances of this being a success are as good as theoretical?” Maul interjected. “I have had decades to think about it, I would have you know. I was still your age when my life was ended.”

“And what is it that you think that I _have_ ? Is this _a life_ ? Is this what you think _I wanted_? Power, money, things money could by? What good does any of that do me now? Even if it would have held meaning, it’s all a distraction.”

He turned to check the data readings, they had just about reached the spot to make the jump, and the freighter turned on its axis, bringing Dathomir back into their view. Maul spent a moment looking at it, and without saying another word punched the coordinates into the navcomp.

Qi’ra sensed that her ability to read people and situations was falling short this time. Just as she had felt relieved by his apparent dissimilarity to Vos, his own brand of volatility manifested. She found herself playing a dangerous game, asking questions, not knowing how to soothe his temper.

“The Bright Jewel sector,” she couldn’t hold back her comment, relieved at the diversion from her confused thoughts.

Maul remained silent, pursing his lips as the calculation was completed and pushed the yoke into position. The vastness of space was stretched into a vortex of light as they entered hyperspace and the man released a pensive huff as he got up from his seat to the sound of a metallic whirr and brushed past Qi’ra, clearly avoiding eye contact.

The Zabrak was trying to hide his frustration and escape the straining conversation that did nothing in the way of reassuring him that this would all somehow work out. Instead he was growing ever more certain that the inexplicable feeling that he had about her, which had led him to his decision to include her in this, was not so much something that the Force had willed, but more akin to trickery of the Dark side, or perhaps Nightsister magic, clouding his judgment.

He considered for a moment that it might be a sign that even his strength in the Force was past its peak, starting to wane and failing to guide him, a thought he tried to quickly brush aside. He had to meditate before these doubts would take him over completely.

On his way to find a place for this purpose, he moved past the Bith, the latter becoming visibly nervous at Maul’s presence in a way that didn’t require any understanding of facial expressions that may or may not have been there. It was rather obvious that Ip’re wasn’t there by any initiative of his own.

Qi’ra remained seated in the cockpit, her mind still on what he had last said, about all things being distractions. There was a lot behind those words that had remained unsaid, although she was still taken aback that he had confided in her as much as he had.

* * *

Those few hours were hardly enough to diffuse the palpable tension, but their arrival in the system was a welcome shift of focus. The freighter dropped out of hyperspace with a hollow metallic clank and set course to its final destination, one of the two moons of Anobis, dwarfed by the agriworld it was orbiting.

“What is this place? Is it safe there?” she cautiously asked as Maul stepped back into the cockpit, her eyes fixed on the bright orb. He simply gave her a weary look from the corner of his eye and sank back into the seat, his joints making the same sound as when he had gotten up.

“It’s Sakhmet Pri 5,” he finally spoke. “One of the two moons of Anobis. It is privately owned, but I have kept my eye on it for a while and there has not been any activity around where we're going. It is too out of the way and unremarkable to draw much attention. Most importantly, it has necessary facilities. We’ll be safer here than in most places.”

Qi’ra glanced over her shoulder, as if to make sure that their evidently reluctant companion was out of immediate hearing range before setting her eyes back on the Zabrak. In the cold light cast by flickering consoles, he appeared older than before. This visible exhaustion made her realize that the considerable risk had an entirely different meaning to the man sitting behind the controls.

This was going to be his last effort at trying to rectify his past by attempting to change what waited ahead. An uncomfortable notion crept up on her, and she realized it might have been more of a formality than he was giving away.

 _He had spent his life keeping up a facade that spoke of nothing but indestructibility._ _  
_ _Was there anyone who knew what lay behind it? Did he himself know?_

She wanted to ask him if he really thought this particular doctor would be capable of giving him what he wanted, but suddenly the thought of voicing the question seemed cruel. The answer became obvious in the context of the many less-considered details about this entire undertaking. He had even told her as much earlier, admitting his doubt in the viability of his plan prior to her betrayal of Vos, which in turn presented him with an opportunity. He would not admit to it in any capacity, but she knew it deep down — he had already given up. Inertia kept him moving, but he had stopped believing in the possibility of change, standing on the precipice, neither letting go nor acknowledging his fear of the abyss that lay before him.

This must have been what he had meant about everything else being just _distractions_. He wanted a chance for a whole life, something that he had been robbed of, while he struggled to believe in the prospect after everything. He wanted to truly believe his life was his own, but every part of his existence was a reminder of what had been taken from him, the ways in which he had been used and manipulated to serve someone else’s will.

Qi’ra couldn’t bring herself to ask him anything else.

* * *

Sakhmet lay there, a tranquil constant waiting in the stillness of space. It was late autumn on both Anobis and its satellite; harvest was over for this rotation and the trade and cargo traffic that had come with it had already ceased. Swirling cloud masses in the upper atmosphere wrapped around the moon, proving it hard to make out the continents from this distance, only revealing the puzzle of land masses and seas once they were dropping below the concealing veil.

The last three years had taken Qi'ra to places even her imagination could not have conjured, but Sakhmet possessed a rare, undisturbed beauty. Remaining settlements on it must have been small, presumably abandoned, and nature reigned king. Her eyes were drawn to the waves of sprawling seas, rolling onto beaches of black sand, fanning out like delicate lace. There was more forest here than she had seen anywhere else, hardly green at all in this fading light of the dusk, slowly swaying under the touch of sweeping winds.

Maul gently tipped the yoke before lowering speed and the freighter glided further inland, landing on a designated pad between tall, twisted pines. The view from above hadn’t revealed any structures, and so the image before her came all the more as a surprise.

 _Facilities_ , she recalled him saying, the thought drawing a suppressed chuckle.

Below the pines rested a large villa, only a couple of stories high, but comprised of wide cylindrical structures, evocative of Cloud City, dark polished stone arranged with glass and metals. Qi’ra could immediately tell that this meant old money, and whoever had built this here could pride themselves on their refined taste.

Hearing the cargo droids activate, she knew Maul was not going to waste any time, as this wasn’t a vacation and there was no reason to postpone the inevitable. He marched past her along the pathway towards an intricately decorated entrance, with the droids slowly following and levitating the largest of the crates.

Qi’ra observed in amazement how to the slightest wave of his hand, the gleaming metal door responded by peeling itself to the sides like a puzzle of geometric shapes.

It took nearly an hour to unload the freighter and carry everything inside, giving her time to look around while the so-called doctor activated the medical droids and started setting up the equipment, every now and then throwing a nervous glance in Maul’s direction, the latter now simply sitting still in one place, meditating.

Qi’ra knew what her function was here, but maybe it was the knowledge that made her increasingly restless, and her master’s apparent lack of concern was not helping even as she realized that this was not about her. Passing time by circling the house and exploring the rooms, she grew ever more impressed by the understated decadence, if ever there was such a thing. For a moment she had allowed herself to muse over what it would have been like to live there, an idea that grew on her far too easily, until she was torn from her thoughts.

* * *

One of the lounge areas to the left of the entrance was large enough to unpack the two biggest containers, the contents of which now stood in the middle of the room, a bacta tank on one side, some kind of a sealed surgical unit on the other. The latter was completely covered by a transparisteel dome with the purpose of sealing the patient inside the apparatus, controls on the exterior for guiding the instruments on the inside.

Quieting his mind had never been so hard for him before. Maul couldn’t give into it by way of admission, but he was afraid. He had kept his mind busy, trying to focus on the immediate task at hand without contemplating the future or the lack of one, but now this moment had arrived and there was no escaping it. Waiting an hour, a day or two days would not bring any more clarity than what he had now. Judging by the shady surgeon who was growing increasingly jumpy around him, waiting would not increase his chances.

If he had ever taken the time to think about his last moments, he would have not guessed his life would end in a parlor, because of a medical procedure gone wrong. It lacked the significance he had spent so much of his life chasing, forgetting himself in the process.

Ip’re was waiting by the surgical pod as Maul started undressing himself, removing his wide pants to reveal the full extent of his injuries. Sensing someone behind him, he turned around to find Qi’ra looking at him in stunned silence, allowing the cloth to drop from his hands, uncovering himself before her.

His waist disappeared into a metal contraption that was almost too simple-looking for something that ought to function as life support. Metal upon metal, inside and around more metal, some parts more worn than others, some shinier, obviously replaced and repaired as those of a droid.

She finally _understood._

That realization came together with a sensation, like a hot breeze within her mind. Looking at him she instinctively _knew_ what this was, but would not do anything to block his presence inside her conscience. Her eyes still locked with his, he took a sudden step forward and reached out his hand to hold her by the wrist.

Qi’ra froze in her place, but relaxed a bit when the man looked down at her palm, bringing up his other hand to place his saber into her grip, closing her fingers around his most prized possession. What he saw in her thoughts allowed him to let go.

Neither could bring themselves to say anything, as this moment was not made for words. Maul managed the slightest nod, a gesture she mirrored in reassurance, her eyes following him into the surgical pod.

As she lifted her eyes from Maul they sought out the Bith instead, adamant on gaining his focus. The threat in her gaze was unmistakable as her fingers flexed unconsciously around the weapon that had just been trusted into her care, the doctor’s deflating posture signaling that the message had been understood.

Maul had obviously discussed the process beforehand, seemingly anticipating each step, as did the medical droids, two of which had now stepped in to assist the doctor that had recognized his cue to commence his work as the Zabrak had laid down in the unit.

Pale, slender fingers worked fast on Maul’s cybernetic limbs, taking them apart more quickly than Qi’ra had thought possible, pieces of metal clanking as they fell to the stone floor until it was just Maul’s legless torso left laying on the operating table.

Her heart sank deeper into her stomach at the sight, but she felt nailed to one place, unable to move or look away. She observed Ip’re taking up a syringe and cautiously injecting the contents into Maul’s vein, hoping it would be something to sedate or numb him. His breathing slowed, but he was conscious enough to have to make an effort to calm himself, his fear tangible before it had truly even began.

The Bith mumbled something to the droids, one of them picking up a saw in response — a tiny blade at the end of a prong, spinning into a blur. Qi’ra could tell that Maul knew what was about to happen, closing his eyes while digging his fingers into the surface beneath him.

The droid lowered the spinning blade to the man’s waist, making quick incisions into the metal band on both sides. Maul cried out in pain. Qi’ra could feel a surge of wild energy rush through her. This could only have been the Force, erupting in agony.

Two of the droids scanned the casing around him and carefully pulled it apart, the shock of the removal forcing another wail from the man on the operating table, making him arch his back and twist his neck, even as he tried to stay in place. It appeared that there was no time to waste now that the process was underway, and they proceeded despite his reaction.

With the casing removed the doctor and his droids closed the the lid of the pod, continuing their work through external controls in order to keep Maul’s body pressurized. Qi’ra’s eyes caught but a glimpse of tubes and serrated flesh before she averted her eyes. Last thing she saw were four large syringes with some unknown substance being injected into the exposed wounds, accompanied by another long howl.

* * *

His eyes moved erratically, trying to find a point to focus on while clearly avoiding meeting hers. Even as his face contorted in torment he had to struggle to remain at least partially conscious; regeneration relied both on the Force and memory, so his being conscious through the procedure was paramount to its success. He knew what it would take for this to have any chance of working, and he was determined to give this last fight everything he had. As excruciating as it was, he did not once cry out for them to stop, but eventually found himself slipping into a trance-like state.

* * *

She didn’t know how, but she felt her legs move and suddenly she was standing outside of the room, unable to bear the sight. Maul’s tortured wails only grew louder and longer, closer together, his anguish lasting what felt like forever.

It had been more than an hour before Qi’ra found herself capable of going back into the makeshift operating room to gauge the progress, or to see if this was just going to be a slow, elaborate and harrowing death. Trying to deny herself hope, what she saw through the lid of the pod left her stunned.

Her eyes fell on a swirl of matter, tissue forming over newly crafted bones, structurally incomplete like three-dimensional sketches, nerves reaching out like tendrils, wrapping around blossoming muscle.

Between the wails and nonsensical rambling she couldn't imagine what it took for Maul to stay even remotely conscious through the maddening pain. But somehow he still held on.  
_What if this could work? What if?_

Exhausted and overwhelmed, she moved back to the lounge in the middle of the villa to get away from the disturbing scene. Before she could even realize what was happening, she started to tear up, caught off guard by compassion she never imagined she would feel for the man laying there. The dimness of the parlor gradually relaxed her despite his continued cries, and slowly but surely she fell asleep.

* * *

It was a sudden vibration that tore Qi’ra from her sleep and she came to her senses in near complete darkness. Everything was quiet, except for a familiar but unanticipated sound coming from the outside — a freighter taking off.

Scrambling to her feet, she ran through the hallway to the main entrance, but it would not budge and she knew it was too late. There, as she was sliding down with her back against the door, everything snapped into focus.

The Bith had seen this one and only chance to escape and took it when she had let her guard down. _Of course_ he would run, she realized belatedly. For all he knew, they would have eliminated him in any case, to guarantee his silence. If the Zabrak didn't get a chance to do it himself, Qi’ra’s earlier unspoken threat would have made his doom an almost certain outcome.

Secretly, she wondered if she might have done the same in this position. Instead, she was left here. If her master was still alive, she would have this to answer for as well.

 _But what if it had gone wrong?_ She was almost too scared to go and take a look for herself. _What if_ Maul was dead, and she had been left in this place alone, with no way to leave? It was all too much to take in at once. She slumped into the darkness with a defeated sigh.


	3. The Indefinite Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was the procedure a success? Will Maul wake up? Qi'ra is faced with a slew of unanswered questions and answers she didn't know she was looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hoped to deliver this chapter sooner, but it's here now and longer than the previous ones. It was tricky to write because... well, you'll see. But I hope what I wanted to achieve here comes through.  
> PS: When trying to follow the passing of time, Day 0 marks the day on which they arrive on Sakhmet.
> 
> As I'm posting this on New Year's Eve I wish you all a wonderful 2019!  
> Thank you for reading <3

**Day 0**

 

It was dark and quiet, the only interruption to the silence was emanating from the pod containing the unconscious body of a Nightbrother, complete as he would have been had that fateful day not altered the course of his life.

Qi’ra stood in the doorway, hesitant to approach, her cautious eyes roaming his shape. An uncomfortable heat spread up her neck and across her face as her eyes traveled up his thighs to his loins, only covered by a carelessly thrown surgical rag, more by coincidence than out of modesty. She could see the scar spanning his waist – surprisingly fine, even if a jagged line; she would have never expected this much from the Bith’s skill.

The only thing implying the extent of his injuries was the interruption of the elaborate pattern of his tattoos, black markings ending at the waist like an unfinished sentence. He looked a different kind of naked without them, his legs appearing more exposed than the rest of him, the only change in the red skin being the darker patches around his knees and ankles.

Maul seemed to be breathing on his own beneath the oxygen mask over his face, but showed no sign of consciousness. The pod, still sealed, kept beeping to the rhythm of his two hearts.

Standing over it, Qi’ra carefully placed her hand on the glass dome, knowing that it would have been enough to elicit a reaction were he capable of registering her presence at all. _Nothing_. The strange charge she had felt around them earlier was gone, and now the stillness felt just as unsettling.

Looking at him in this state, she felt her subconscious trying to push the unpleasant recollection of the promise she made to the forefront of her thoughts, but she was quick to bury it beneath more urgent questions.

It took a good moment for her to remember about the droids, but she was soon left deflated as she discovered that all the surgical droids were gone. Only the cargo droids remained, and for the simple reason that they would have made enough noise to have woken her. She had been left alone with someone whose survival depended on her – but it was a responsibility she was in no way prepared for. The initial shock of the situation had worn off, but each passing moment presented her with a slew of several more questions, none that she had answers for. Her mind raced anxiously with questions leaping from one to the next.

“Are you in a coma? When are you going to wake up? And how will I know when to take you out of there?” she whispered.  
She had no one to rely on for help, no one to tell her what she must do or warn her of what she should not and no one to help her save the man that appeared intact and alive, but not much more.

She made her way back to the parlor and sank on the same lounger she had fallen asleep in earlier. Qi’ra couldn’t help but wonder where she would be had she decided to disappear, instead of going to Dathomir as told. She had chosen the best path forward available to her at the time, and while a part of her wondered if it had made any difference for her in the end, something held her back from admitting regret over her choice even now. The desperation and faithlessness of Maul’s plan stirred some sense of tenacity in her that couldn’t accept the idea of letting such effort go to waste.

  


**Day 1**

 

With the arrival of the morning Qi’ra’s eyes fluttered, opening slowly to let in the light of day as she roused from her sleep. She was sore from the unsuited sleeping arrangement but it was too cold to remain there for much longer and her aching muscles were begging to be warmed up. As soon as she managed to relieve the immediate discomfort, it all came flooding back: the surgery, the Bith’s escape and apparent lack of medical droids, and last but not least the promise she was expected to keep. The promise held by the new day was quickly burdened by the weight of the situation she found herself in.

The villa appeared to have been abandoned for some time, fine dust having settled on surfaces. And so daylight revealed the marks they had left in the previous night – a criss-cross of prints and dragging tracks, stacks of containers piled up near the entrance and around the medical equipment set up in the lounge, contents of some now scattered about.

She made her way to the adjacent lounge, holding her breath as her mind ran wild with the possibilities, only ceasing once she stood beside the pod. Everything about both her and Maul’s fate on Sakhmet was an unknown, and she was cognizant of Maul’s dependency on her, whether she liked it or not. Little had been left up to her choice.

There was no sign that his condition had changed since the night before – the mask over Maul’s mouth fogged up with each exhalation and the lights on the pod’s front panel flickered as they did before. There were blood smears over the pod, splatter marks on the lid, on the floor and stains on the cloth covering his nether region. She had somehow been too occupied by other things to notice how gruesome the process had been, aside from the tissue taking form before her very eyes.

The woman didn’t need a doctor to tell her that Maul’s healing process was by no means over. He would have to spend some time in the bacta tank, regardless of the severity of his current condition and she felt tremendous relief that it had already been set up, though it still remained empty. Luckily for her, this was a more compact model, resembling a sealed bath, having been made for personal use. Operating it had been made as easy as possible and most functions were described on the panel – all she had to do was to attach the extending hoses to the bacta canisters and activate the pumping mechanism. Seeing the clear liquid start to rise as the tank slowly filled was a consolation – there was at least something she could do for him.

As her thoughts came back to the Zabrak, she realized she ought to at least clean the dried blood off him before floating him in the tank. Who knew what excess biological matter could do, considering the healing liquid’s regenerative properties. _Better not to risk anything_ , she thought. There was only enough to float him once, with perhaps enough left for some bacta patches.

***

Qi’ra made her way towards the kitchen placed on the other side of the central lounge. Polished black surfaces and shiny metal fixtures hid beneath a grey veil. The unpleasant sensation of the dust under her touch made her wince. Having found a bowl, she moved to get some water. One of the taps gave way and she stood over the sink expectantly, but nothing happened. Disappointment was beginning to spread over her face when she heard a startling noise, seemingly coming from beneath her, as if the house itself were coming alive. She barely managed to register what that sound signalled before water spilled from the faucet, pouring out with such force that it splashed her before she could adjust the flow. She dried her face, filled the bowl and grabbed a few towels before she made it back to the lounge.

She couldn’t quite articulate her feelings and perhaps even avoided doing so, fearful for what she might find, but something about focusing on the next step kept her mind from descending into panic, preventing her from processing the enormity of it all. First she would clean him, then she would figure out how to get him into the tank. One step at a time.

Carefully she lifted the lid off the surgical pod, expecting it to trigger some unforeseen medical emergency that she was in no way equipped to handle. Despite the many skills she had acquired over her young life, she knew just how underprepared she was for what his condition could demand.

The air inside carried the nauseating mix of whatever the Bith had used to sterilize the environment, blood and burnt flesh. She held her breath for a moment, waving her hand in front of her to make the air move quicker. Having soaked the towel and wrung it, she placed it on his forehead first, wiping down the side of his face. She suspected it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but when she lifted her hand and looked at his face again, he looked more peaceful than the moment before.

Observing him for any reaction, she carefully moved down from his face, cleaning his shoulders, chest, then both arms and hands, bringing new water as the bowl filled with red. She could feel, rather than see his many, many scars. Turning his hand to wash his palm, she rested the back of it in hers and moved to wipe blood from his rough, tattooed palm, suddenly realizing their size difference. She looked at his hand for a long moment, feeling the weight of it in hers, reminding herself of the sheer physical strength it possessed.

After she finished wiping his hands, she washed his abdomen, taking particular care to be gentle around the fresh scar, moving from there down his sides, to his thighs. She slid her fingers behind his knee, lifting it off the table as much as her strength allowed. One hand cupped his calf while the other wiped away blood from the back of the leg. She hadn’t touched the new skin like this yet; it felt firm, but pliant and soft. More importantly, it was warm to her touch – something that gave her hope.

It dawned on her that she was not yet completely done as a familiar heat rose up her neck again. Her heart started to pound and she noticed she was holding her breath as her hand was already lifting the carelessly thrown piece of cloth covering his genitals. The sight pulled the air from her lungs and she struggled to suppress a coy smile that now tugged at the corners of her lips. He was so beautifully _complete_.

There, resting on his thigh, lay a meaty shaft crowned by a bulbous, garnet-toned head peeking out from under a hood of red skin, resting over a plump and smooth scrotum. Her mouth grew dry regardless of her determination to remain composed, her fist flexing ever-so-slightly around the towel.

He had already bared himself willingly, just before laying down on the table and putting his fate in the hands of another. That was more vulnerable than any other kind of nakedness he could ever present her with, but the way he lay before her now spoke to her body, and for a brief moment she imagined rough, hot fingers wrapping themselves around her wrist. The sensation stormed her senses so intensely that she was startled free of the hold the hypnotizing image had over her. Not knowing where it had come from, she tried to superimpose her sense of purpose over it.

He was ready for the tank, she decided, her heart sinking somewhat, as she wondered about the likelihood of him being able to enjoy the fruits of his suffering. Qi’ra shook off the remainder of whatever had momentarily overcome her. She put a breathing mask over his mouth and nose and had the cargo droids carefully lift him from the pod and lower him into the bacta until he was submerged, releasing a relieved sigh once she had closed the lid and set the tank to float him.

***

Qi’ra decided the next task was cleaning, starting with the blood-spattered ward – It looked simply unsanitary. The task of cleaning seemed near insurmountable given the size of the villa, much of which she hadn’t even explored yet. To her great relief she found a pair of inactive cleaning droids that only needed to be charged before coming to life and scurrying off to follow orders given.

Suddenly, her stomach alerted her of a hunger she hadn’t had time to think about and Qi’ra found herself anxiously unpacking the various crates, looking for rations. Surely, he would have brought some food along, at the very least for himself. The first crate contained various medical supplies, but she didn’t need those right then so moving it aside, she opened the bigger container beneath it, coming to look at canisters of some clear gel-like substance. The label on the side spelt it out – this was what he ate. It was another piece that not only helped her better understand what he had said, about everything being a distraction, but also the extreme measures of this last attempt at changing the path. Maul was able to sustain his life, but looking at the means through which it was possible, revealed just how greatly the quality of it was affected by his injury. And she thought about what she herself would be willing to do in his place, to improve her own life after something had so greatly impacted it.

There was another smaller crate, its black paint worn off around the corners, a row of illegible scribbles scratched onto the lid. As nondescript as it might have looked among all the other ones, all bearing various markings and signs of heavy use, there was something distinctly personal about it. Unlike the other crates so far, this one was locked without some externally visible mechanism, and wouldn’t yield to her fingers trying to pry it open. Having been presented with a challenge, she set it aside with some reluctance. Hunger was getting the better of her, and she would have to return to it at a later time.

Opening the next case triggered a relieved sigh. _Food, finally._ She picked up a ration bar, impatiently tearing the package open with her teeth. She wasn’t expecting much, having eaten a few before, but whether it was because of hunger or not, this one didn’t taste terrible. There appeared to be polystarch and veg-meat rationed into single meal portions with Mando’a writing on the packages. This was meant for her, she realized, feeling strangely moved by having been thought of, even though not letting her starve was hardly a sign of fondness.

Upon a quick calculation, she concluded that it would last her a few months at the most, but stopped herself before she could mentally explore that future any further and tried to focus on more urgent matters. She hadn’t ventured outside, but she could have sworn that she saw the wind carry a few flakes of snow past the window earlier, and it was getting chillier inside. They weren’t going anywhere for a few days at the very least, and she wasn’t sleeping in that dusty lounge chair again.

The cleaning droids were soon done with their first task and Qi’ra had them follow her upstairs. This was her chance to make-believe, she mused. She had come up in the world since joining Crimson Dawn and her own means had improved drastically in that time, but the biggest difference might have been her awareness of the immense wealth afforded to very few. She had risen just enough for such affluence to figure in her sight, ever out of reach, and most tangible in homes like this one.

Ascending on the wide staircase through the central atrium lit by a skylight, she turned to the left, passing another lounge situated opposite the stairs and reached the bedroom which had caught her attention earlier.

Having finally identified the panel which controlled lighting and heat, she turned on both, surprised to find that there was power and that they worked. The warm, ambient light made the room look even more inviting than before, her exhaustion only amplifying the invitation. Dark, panelled walls displaying art from many worlds met wooden floors laid in fishtail parquet like the rest of the second floor. The furniture elegant, the large bed was particularly inviting. The coat of dust on everything was less than appealing, so she handed out another set of orders while she herself fetched clean sheets from the linen closet she had stumbled across near the kitchen. Something about that made her feel more at ease, and she was starting to feel strangely at home. She did not achieve this through some claim to anything, but by learning the place of things – where to find them, how to use them.

The two droids were incredibly fast and efficient, likely the best that credits could buy. The pair had already finished with the room by the time Qi’ra got back and she dispatched them to attend the rest of the house. All she could focus on now was the need to wash herself and change into clean clothes for the first time in over a day.

The bathroom was finished in dark, polished stone, bronzium fixtures glistening in warm light cast by sculpturesque lamps and amplified in large mirrors. Exotic oils and perfumes in intricately decorated containers had been lined up on the counter by the sink. The bath was large and round and seemed to have been carved from a single stone monolith, betraying a peculiar transparency once she had sank down in it. The light of the lamps and reflections of water pooling around her sent playful flickers dancing around in the curious material. The warmth of the water wrapped around her and suddenly everything else could wait.

  


**Day 6**

 

There hadn’t been even the slightest change in Maul’s condition for the past few days. _Why?_ This was the only question she asked and only answer she seeked. Her visits to the bacta tank had grown less frequent in that time. First she made sure to check on him every hour or so, then every several hours, growing more anxious by the day, fearing that she would eventually be made to face some inevitability out of her control. She was becoming weary of what she had tried so hard to push out of her mind, the prospect of having to face what she had agreed to.  
_But it would not be today._

Keeping her hands busy allowed her to focus her mind and, with the help of the droids, the house now looked like it hadn’t stood abandoned for years. Qi’ra had moved her few belongings up to the bedroom that she now considered hers, along with the container that she could not open.

Maul’s lightsaber rested on the bedside table, out of her way in a sense, without being out of sight and reach. The saber was Maul’s most prized possession that he had trusted in her hands in the most literal sense, but to Qi’ra it was not just an extension of him, but rather symbolic of himself and the life he had placed in her hands with it. She sensed a peculiar kind of energy being close to it, and came to treat the laser sword with a kind of reverence. To her great surprise, the presence she felt was not at all malignant in the way that she had imagined and slowly she got more comfortable, coming to feel it as a comforting presence, a silent companion.

***

Exploring the rooms had delighted her beyond her expectations. Having gone through the closets in the bedrooms, she had found outlandishly opulent items of fashion, most too long for her diminutive stature, some clearly not made for a female or even a humanoid form. She had picked a few long, sheer dressing gowns for herself, the hems and sleeves trimmed with an abundance of fluffy feathers. It made her feel like nobility, twirling in the gowns as they swayed, bounced and shifted along with her movements.

One of the parlors lead into a small solarium, overgrown with vegetation from far warmer worlds. The disheveled state of the hothouse offered her something to do for at least a couple of days. In the back of the second floor she found a library – home to a respectable collection of books, manuscripts, scrolls and maps, some of them ancient, some contained on storage devices. Her instinct told her that there was more than sentimental or monetary value to a lot of it – the collection of items was carefully curated rather than amassed and from what she could gather in just a short time, there was particular focus on a few lesser-known and little-explored regions of the Galaxy and lore and tales regarding them.

But that was not what drew her attention to the room. In the middle of it stood a fully equipped and functioning holodesk that was under standard protection which was no great feat for Qi’ra to bypass. The device merely symbolized a theoretical freedom however. There was nobody to contact or to alert of her situation, nobody to ask to retrieve them without putting them in greater danger. After the initial elation of bypassing the security features she quickly realized that the best chance for a future off Sakhmet that she had, remained right there in the bacta tank.

As the days passed, Qi’ra had figured out how to navigate the control panels with their many functions to adjust lighting, play music, to open and close doors. She was free to come and go from the house, using the little device she had first seen in Maul’s possession. She had ventured outside on just two occasions, when the sun was at its highest point and visibility best, in the hopes of spotting any sign of civilization or perhaps of a vehicle that they could use. She had found neither. The first time she walked to the beach, only to find forest expand along the sandy shores as far as the eye could see on both sides. The second time she walked in the opposite direction, but saw no end to the forest and returned to the house before she would lose her way back. She had only a vague recollection of what she had seen from above before they landed, and there was too much at stake to venture into the greater unknown just yet.

She went about guided by some vague image of an indefinite, obscure future that flickered on the horizon like a blurry mirage. Theoretical possibilities kept her in motion, focusing her actions towards a nonspecific point between the present and that uncertain future. She remained calm on the surface, but her mind was still measuring time in tasks. From the solarium, she had moved on to the kitchen and pantry, organizing the rations, Maul’s gel-like sustenance and all the remaining medical supplies into her own system, further reinforcing the source of her makeshift sense of security – knowing where everything was.

Qi’ra wouldn’t have admitted it even if she had consciously recognized it for what it was, but she had started nesting – building around her a cocoon woven of order, possession and hope in an attempt to protect herself from the unpredictability hanging over her. Her intended purpose on Sakhmet and Maul’s condition were both full of the uncertainty that she sought shelter from.

She spent her evening sitting by the bacta tank, trying to convince herself that there was a slight change in the beeping sound in reaction to Maul’s vital signs. She pressed the side of her head against the tank as she wiped away her silent tears.

_I can’t do what you asked of me. Please don’t leave me here alone._

  


**Day 7**

 

The darkness across the sky was giving way to pinkish hues, a touch of gold on the horizon betraying the approaching sunrise. Qi’ra’s sleep had been restless and a cold heaviness was settling into her heart, one that a promise of daybreak couldn’t lighten. She rolled over to turn away from the window, hoping to go back to sleep when her eyes fell on the black crate that she had left on the low table, and she found herself unable to look away from it. She had tried to open it several times in the previous days, unsuccessfully, and amidst other things she’d been occupied with it had eventually slipped her mind, until right that very moment when she could not avert her eyes, like it had spoken to her in some manner.

She could offer only a vague guess as to what it could contain, but as passing time seemed to answer her remaining questions one by one, the closer she got to any manner of acceptance, the higher the stakes became. The contents could provide her a solution, but could also have handed the final blow to any hope she had left to get out of this place.

There had been no lock to pick, but she had tried everything she could think of, from magnets to a particularly durable knife she’d found in the kitchen. All she managed to achieve was to scrape some more paint off the crate in the process. And then out of nowhere it hit her with eerie clarity: it was never meant to be opened.

Her body was on the move the moment she articulated the thought. Before she knew it, she was up from the bed, her feet flying down the staircase, the crate pressed against her side. Goosebumps spread over her arms at the feeling of having taken the back seat in her own body, led by something _not herself_. Guided by absolute certainty, she placed the black cube on the ground between the two cargo droids. “Break open,” she commanded, taking several steps back.

The metallic scream cut through flesh and she stumbled backwards. Qi’ra had lifted her arms in anticipation of being hit with debris of the destruction, but lowered them as none came. Uncovering her face, her eyes first shot to the tank that looked undisturbed, before dropping them to the ground to take stock of what remained of the crate. She had been right – there was no lock, it had simply been a sealed metal casing. But it had not been empty. Her eyes eagerly sought the contents that were scattered on the ground, and she moved closer to gather everything and to take them up to her room.

She looked at the contents of the crate now laid out on her small table, trying to fight back the lump in her throat. She picked up the bundle of cloth, laying it out in her lap. It was a simple grey tunic, modest in style, but of well-made fabric that was still soft to the touch despite its wear, paired with a pair of black pants similar in their make. She immediately _knew_. Maul was still holding onto something, likely thinking it a fool’s hope himself, hiding it away into a box that might have stayed sealed like a forbidden memory.

She never expected the discovery to make her feel that sympathetic and protective, absentmindedly bunching the fabric in her palms, almost as if she could squeeze comfort out of it. Qi’ra could tell by looking at the rest that, other than the saber, these were his most important and personal possessions, all that remained of a past life that he was still holding onto. There was no one there to see it, but something changed in her eyes at the sight. She had thought she had seen him at his most vulnerable, but this changed even that perception.

The box had contained an assortment of holochips, some older and more battered than others, and a small portable projector, but her attention quickly moved from the chips to the two remaining items. She rolled a round pendant between her fingers, wondering about its significance. It was chunky, with a peculiar weight to it, but the design was simple with only a few curved lines mirrored on the face of it and betrayed nothing of its origin.

Qi’ra took her time and cautiously explored each item, not wanting to overlook anything but leaving the notebook for last. Opening the container had already been intrusion enough, and for a moment, before she picked it up, a fear of his reaction flashed through her mind. She inhaled, reverently stroking the cover.

Scooching backwards to lean against the headboard, she braced herself for the unknown. The worn pages were covered in scribbles seemingly made over a long time, judging not only by the layer of grime, but the way his handwriting had changed, the characters and symbols of various languages evolving from scraggly crow’s feet into sequences of restrained markings, the occasional illustrations growing more precise and considerate of perspective.

The writing on the first pages was noted down in a system of characters she couldn’t recognize, much less read. But as she kept flipping through the pages, she came across a scramble of things, from sets of coordinates with no mention of location names, simple maps depicting less-known trade routes, and lists of aliases used by various informants. There were a few longer mission reports too, in which a much younger Maul had summarized his observations and encountered obstacles.

The earliest legible entry dated back to the time when he had been in some manner of an academy. He couldn’t have been no more than perhaps fifteen years of age at the time, she estimated. The boy had excelled in nearly every challenge, driven by a longing for approval, oblivious to what he had been deprived of, the impersonal tone of his accounts trying to remove feeling from his recollections only making it harder for Qi’ra to read.

There he was – a near perfect warrior in the making, left without any skill to deal with his own self, barely feeling any ownership of his person, beyond that of claiming his name. He was a child left without love, security or trust, growing into a young man living in emotional deprivation, with no words or freedom to express this vast loneliness that filled his chest like a bottomless void, hollowing him out. The resulting frustration turned against himself even in these pages, mingling with the changes of his physical self, making him feel ever more like a failure when his voice no longer obeyed his will.

 _“I don’t want her to be afraid of me,”_ he had written at the bottom of a page.

Unbeknownst to himself, these few words held in them a plea for help, for comfort and closeness… for hope. Qi’ra failed to hold back her tears as the awareness of the depth of his deprivation trickled in over the next two pages, detailing the end of his stay at the academy and what had happened to the girl. Something had been broken then, even though on the surface the appearance of fanatical dedication had not yet begun to crack. Losing her had been the final push to seal his heart into a place where no one would reach again, and the mark it left on him had haunted him all these long years. He had added a few lines to the end of the entry, judging by the condition of the writing no more than a few years ago.

_“I’m sorry. I wanted to see your surprise. Could you forgive me?”_

The pen had lingered on the paper at the end of that sentence, bleeding out ink into the paper and she could sense the heaviness he still carried in him.

There was an entry from a few years after he had left Orsis, detailing his ascendancy to gain the title of a Sith Lord – brief, but more than enough to make Qi’ra’s insides turn. Essentially a firsthand account of how his teacher had finally broken what was left of his true self – a study in the breaking of a will. Sidious’ incessant conditioning had done its work on him, and Maul grew ever more skillful in whatever art in the regimen of an assassin he was taught, rarely contemplating his own purpose beyond what his this master had him do.

Maul’s precision and attention to even the smallest of details was nothing short of disturbing, but the methodology told her that it was likely the result of the same sadistic grooming, rendering it somewhat of a survival mechanism – going over everything until he had looked at the task at hand from every conceivable angle, filling in the information until he could present it without fear of punishment for his failure to execute his master’s orders with absolute perfection.

Much of the earlier reports had a constrained and yet impersonal tone to them, but as she kept reading she started noticing a shift. Every now and then a snide remark would slip in, eventually he started expressing opinions and even skepticism towards orders he’d been given. He was starting to open up without the awareness of doing so and Qi’ra was beginning to get a sense of his thought process and an understanding of what had nurtured his doubts in his master’s command. Without a deeper knowledge of that relationship, she perceived a rebellion brewing in the mind of the young man that had written those words. The more the notebook revealed, the more its very existence became a wonder to her; this was no doubt a dangerous thing to keep.

Maul had never mentioned anything about his past, the Sith or his teacher. It had become obvious to her that his relationship to the latter had been what all of his life had revolved around, and this matter weighed heavily on her mind for she knew that much still eluded her. She figured this was a good time to make use of the holodesk. It wasn’t a secure line of communication and she couldn’t risk contacting anyone through it just yet – that would have been the absolute last resort, but searching for things pertaining to public records would entail far lesser dangers.

Qi’ra was far more than a pretty face with one hand on Dryden’s knee and neither of those things were what had earned her the rank of lieutenant. Her particular area of expertise had to do with gathering information, specifically of the sensitive kind. She had a knack for playing the part of a ditz convincingly enough to bypass being considered a likely threat, her disposition and manner invoking trust, allowing her past primary defenses. The foundation of her reputation was her work ethic, and it had made her services sought-after in some circles, thus making her invaluable to Crimson Dawn, whether or not such a thing would have been mentioned.

It didn’t take a display of her true skill to find what she was looking for, just a few well-practiced moves, while her findings did little to improve anything. The links were clear – the one Maul had worshipped was none other than the aptly named Sith lord Darth Sidious, otherwise known as Emperor Palpatine, operating insidiously while using a senatorial seat as a cover for his machinations. Even though none of these sources tied Maul to the Emperor by name, the few security recordings were proof enough. The assassin didn’t have to reveal his face for her to recognize him.

While the senator had presented himself as an amiable and poised presence among the more cut-throat variety of politicians, the man behind the facade was a ruthless and sadistic mastermind, his own apprentice serving as sufficient proof. Only a brief look into what was known to holonet of Sith practices was more than enough to answer a few of the remaining questions about the man speaking through the notebook.

Having returned to her bed she flipped through the remaining pages in the notebook, there were no new entries since what occurred on Naboo. The few remaining pages appeared to be empty, all but one. The writing wasn’t faded, but the handwriting seemed to have deteriorated into the barely legible scribbles of an unraveling mind.

_Far above, far below_  
_we don’t know where we’ll fall_  
_far above, far below,  
_ _what once was great is rendered small_

Qi’ra felt a particular kind of sadness at the thought of what his life must have been, what it must have taken him, just to survive. She had gotten to know him in a way nothing else could have allowed her to – she had seen what Sidious had done to him, and that knowledge allowed for the fear to melt, replacing it with an intimate understanding. All of the untold suffering he had been subjected to for years before he fell on Naboo had left no mark behind on the world outside of his own mind. There was only this, the contents of a crate that he carried with him as an anchor to the pain and to a self that nobody had ever known.

***

Qi’ra grew more restless with every additional detail about Maul’s past she uncovered, until the walls appeared to be closing in on her and suddenly she felt desperate for a bit of fresh air. She took one of the furs she had found and wrapped it tightly around her as she stepped outside. She had forgotten the chill of the air outside. Her breath came out in little puffs of vapor, and she could almost feel the skin of her face tighten, a prickly sensation on her lips. Despite the discomfort she drew a deep breath, relishing the rush of the cold as it seemed to push away other thoughts by making her more aware of her own physical presence, relaxing her by force as her energy ebbed and enervation took over.

The hour had grown late, day was making way for night and the light on the horizon was slowly melting into the deep blues freckled with stars. Qi’ra didn’t dare stray far from the house, cautiously scanning her environment as she moved, frosty moss crunching under her feet. The forest was still, and the only sounds not her own were those of creaking trees and the wind. Her mind had started drifting again and she turned to head back, when she saw a flash in the periphery of her vision. She looked up and around, but there was nothing. She shrugged it off and walked to the door, only to be startled by another, brighter flash. She looked up at the open sky not daring to look away again until she saw what had caused it.

It appeared faintly at first, as a pale, luminous ripple high above, caressing the sky. Then another, longer this time, vaguely green in color. Qi’ra stood in silent awe, watching the display as it cast her in a soft, emerald light. Waves of green and violet brushed across Sakhmet’s skies, passing out of her reach into places she couldn’t follow.

She was moved by its fragile, temporary beauty, but it also made her keenly aware of the unreachable distance. She felt so utterly lost and alone, realizing she could keep distracting herself with simple tasks only for so long, before the reality of her long-term outlook caught up with her. The light eventually faded and the sky went dark.

***

She sat on her bed and inserted the chip into the projector, not knowing what to prepare for. At first there was a nothing, then a crackling sound and a flicker of light. Sparks flew and a moment later a crouched figure appeared, lit by the flame. As he turned to the recorder, Maul removed his hood, revealing a badly bruised cheek and a bleeding lip. He could have been no older than 18. A full grown man in form, his eyes betraying a scared child looking for a parental figure to protect him now that he had reached the limits of his own abilities. But no such help had come, and acceptance was setting in. His breath came in short, shallow wheezes and Qi’ra knew it was bad – his lungs were filling up with fluid as he struggled to get the words out.

_“I’m sorry Master. I have failed you. I was weak and I could not complete the task. Please forgive mmmhh....”_

The words trailed off into a desperate coughed out sob – this was a transmission he had never sent as he would have never been forgiven for allowing feelings of fear take control of him. Maul’s condition revealed his brokenness in a way that she had not yet seen and doubted that anyone had. There was a reason he had secretly kept this holo, and it was not because of mere shame – that he felt without the physical reminder, but there was something else here that he needed the connection to, enough to risk its eventual discovery. Qi’ra wondered if it was a glimmer of a secret light still remaining buried somewhere deep within him, a pain that was Maul’s alone – a piece of his true self that Sidious had not been able to take for him, making this recording a secret passage to something that lay dormant, waiting to be awakened when there was hope again.

Qi’ra felt a growing urgency, there was so much she didn’t know and would have never imagined to be true about him. And now something tugged at her insides, as if getting to know the most she could in the least amount of time could set things on the right course. Long before she would come to realize it herself she had assumed a role in his fate, one she trusted would be up to her to shape, one she believed would matter in the outcome of things. It was like she had found a place and a cause in the chaos.

Not all of the holos had been recorded by Maul, she soon discovered. The visage was both foreign and familiar, a close proximity to that of the red-skinned Zabrak lying in bacta. The eyes and skin beneath the tattoos lighter and horns longer, but a Nightbrother without a shadow of a doubt. There was something about this figure that took down her defenses without a second thought. Caution and worry was written all over his features, sadness and reluctance reflected in his eyes, but when he opened his mouth to speak she expected him to roar.

“ _Brother_ ”, the figure whispered instead, his voice deep and solemn.

“ _I hope one day you will understand, and perhaps when you do, you’ll be able to forgive... I can’t follow you where you’re going. You are my brother, always... but I am doing this for myself. I appreciate everything you have taught me, but I might never get a chance to make this decision again, and I know that I will never know peace if I will allow someone else to choose my path for me. Is it not how it all began?_ ”

The man briefly raised his bright gaze to the recorder and lowered it again, eyeing something in his hand.

“ _I will leave this where you can find it_ ” he murmured, letting a familiar pendant drop from his palm and held it up by the chain.

“ _I think it’s best for the both of us if you won’t attempt to find me. This is goodbye. Please know that I will never stop being your brother._ ”

With that he raised his other arm to the recorder and ended the transmission.

Suddenly there were as many questions crowding her mind as at the start of this journey, as soon as one found an answer, three more presented themselves. With each new piece finding its place Qi’ra understood this man’s tragedy a little better and the fear she first felt was replaced with pity, pity with sadness and compassion, and something else had begun brewing in her now – a sense of purpose.

It was dark outside and she couldn’t even make out the stars anymore from between the trees outside the window as she drew the curtains. The only remaining light was the low ambient glow that circumscribed the ceiling, one she was reluctant to turn off at nights; she was more comfortable now, but this place was still an unknown, and while she had made herself at home, her guard was up.

The weight of her limbs seemed to increase by the minute and she had already begun curling up in the soft comforter when she spotted the last remaining chip at the foot of the bed. It looked the newest and she had saved it for last, reasoning that watching the other ones first increased her chances of appreciating what it could reveal. She placed the recorder on the pillow next to her, inserted the chip and looked up at the image that appeared beside her.

Maul sat at his desk, eyes closed, slowly massaging his temples in a circular motion. He still wasn’t facing the recorder directly, but it was a world apart from the earlier recordings. His voice was low and weary and she quickly realized it was dated from just two days prior to him first contacting her directly.

“ _Slimy little bastard,_ ” he growled. “ _I wonder if I even want to know how far up everything he’s managed to work his tentacles. Hard to tell which is worse_ – _the sheer stupidity of thinking I won’t find out or the arrogance to do it anyway._ ”

He continued to detail the extent of Vos’ suspected treachery from unauthorized deals to various private accounts he had opened across the galaxy. Maul’s mood deteriorated as the list of possible indiscretions grew longer. Despite his foul mood Qi’ra found herself peculiarly comforted by his projected presence and the mundaneness of the subject matter, making her feel a connection to the world that seemed to fade at times in this remote place. Tiredness was getting the best of her and the Zabrak’s grumbling reflection of his own failure to prevent these many things turned into a deep hum, the sound of his voice lulling her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you have questions about anything you can find me on [Tumblr](https://taule.tumblr.com).


	4. You

Darkness was tightening its hold on her, constricting until she was forced still in one place, only the frantic beat of her heart filling her ears. Qi’ra had begun to think the grasp would crush her, when without warning it loosened and she fell. There was no way of telling how long the fall would be, but even in the darkness she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the end.

The ice wasn’t thick but hurt her on impact and cut her skin as she crashed through it. She opened her mouth to cry out in pain but let it die in her throat as she felt the icy burn of freezing water. She struggled to keep from inhaling, helplessly sinking deeper into the ruthless grasp of its frigid embrace.

She reached out her arms, attempting to swim, to find something to hold onto, but there was nothing, and soon she could no longer fight the weight pulling her down. She didn’t know where she was or how she had gotten there, but her situation was undeniable to her. The lack of oxygen made her mind cloudy and it became harder and harder to hold her breath.

She broke, expecting to feel the excruciating sting of cold in her lungs — but it never came. Instead her vision was flooded with images she realized weren’t from her own memory. The moonlight from above outlined the edges of ice around where they had fallen through. She had begun to reach for the opening when she heard a voice boom inside her head.

 _Turn your fear into anger.  
_ _Turn your fear into anger!_

Qi’ra could feel the shift in her, as impossible as she found the order to follow. Her panic started to subside, the chill replaced with a rage, the voice itself becoming the focus of it. Suddenly the bitter cold of the water faded and she began to fall again.

 

***

 

Maul hit the ground. At least he thought he did. There was a pain somewhere which he tried to localize, but to no avail - it was everywhere. Traveling around, pulsating here and there, stabbing his side, drilling in the back of his skull and grating against his pelvis. Was it from the fall... he couldn’t be sure. The more he tried to remember how he got there, the more it evaded him.

He tried to steady himself through the help of the Force, but it would not answer his call, he could not feel it at all. _That_ , he was least prepared for. The Force was a constant, it _couldn’t_ leave him. _Could it?_ Such a thought had never occurred to him, for the sheer impossibility of it.

The only thing he knew for sure was that in this darkness there was a surface on which he was lying. It was neither cold nor warm, rough or smooth under his touch. Pushing himself up into sitting position he realized… he could _feel_ it. He moved his hands to his hips, gasping in disbelief. His fingers groped their way down to his knees, to his ankles and toes. And in the darkness he made a face nobody could see. The corners of his mouth twitched in opposite directions and he had to swallow something building up in his throat. He reveled in the sensation, expecting this precious thing to be torn from him in an instant.

“This is just a dream,” he whispered to himself with a sigh, arms around his knees.

 _“Perhaps,”_ came the unexpected answer which tore away the odd sense of comfort Maul had just acquired through believing himself to wake up any moment.

“What is this place?! Who are you?!” the Zabrak inquired in a single exhale, struggling to conceal his shock.

 _“I am whatever you want me to be...”_ the sonorous voice boomed in reply, _“and this is whatever you decide it is”_ it continued.

As the voice had spoken the darkness around Maul began to fade, taking the memory of pain with it. Red fog rolled around him, above and below. There was light in the folds of the shifting vapor. He could not tell where it came from, but the red pushed back the darkness he had been enveloped in.

“I have no patience for games,” Maul countered as he rose to stand. “I asked you a question, answer it!”

 _“I already did,”_ the voice replied without a hint of impatience, as if time itself had no meaning to it. _“I am in the middle of all things, I am what you make of me, I am what you want me to be. And I am here to give you what you ask of me.”_

“And here? What is this place? Am I dead? Is this a dream?” Maul’s slew of questions contained none of the imperturbability.

_“Don’t ask me what this place is, for it is of your own making… And are you not here because too many choices have been made for you? This is your place to decide these many things... What this place is and what it can show you, whether it is a dream… whether you’re alive or dead. And where your journey goes from here.”_

“How do I get out of here?”

_“By deciding where you want to go from here.”_

Maul frowned as the voice went silent, waving his right hand around in the red cloud, as if physical movement would help him process the implications of what little he knew about his current state, trying to guess what this dream he was in meant for the physical body that was lying somewhere out of his reach, defenseless.

His eyes dropped onto his legs and he was just about to sink deeper into contemplation when he heard a voice again. This one was different — familiar. Suddenly he felt ill, and goosebumps rose all over his arms.

 _“Oh, poor Maul. All he ever wanted was a friend. Does it please you to know I have another apprentice? Does it make you feel less... alone?”_ The sinister voice trailed off into a mirthless, mocking laughter.

Those words caused the kind of pain that was felt in the flesh. Standing there with the awareness of everything that had come to pass, the humiliation of that devotion and of being cast aside only made the reminder of it hurt more. The feeling was buried so deep, he doubted it would ever leave him. Shame, sense of failure and hopelessness — when he thought back on his life, it felt like punishment. First he wanted to lash out, but the Force did not answer. Exhaustion then wiped over him like a wave, cutting through bone and flesh.

 

***

 

Qi’ra jolted awake, gasping for air. She propped herself up on her elbows to take a look around. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the now-familiar surroundings, but something felt different. It took a moment for the dream to trickle back into her consciousness, and when it did, she realized whose voice she had heard. She had heard it before when she was searching the holonet for what she could find on Maul and had seen a few recordings of Emperor Palpatine… _Sidious_.

 _This had been Maul’s dream._ She let that sink in for a moment.

Qi’ra decided that whatever it was — a memory or a dream he was having right as she saw it, something felt different now. She felt like the very dream was evidence that his mind was somewhere where it was still capable of reaching out. And it had connected to hers somehow.

She wasted no time and flew out of bed despite a chill that made her body protest. The house was quiet and all seemed to be as it was just few hours ago — until she arrived by the tank.

The bacta bath was just deep enough for Maul to lie on the built-in recliner and remain completely submerged. He had rolled to his side, his forehead touching the side of the tank. His face would have been in clear view through the side panel if it weren’t for the many small bubbles that were now rising from beneath his breathing mask. Qi’ra nearly screamed the orders at the droids as she flung into motion.

The days inbetween had given her ample time to prepare for the inevitability she was determined to greet. He _would_ wake up, _eventually_ . And when he did, she _would_ be ready. As ready as she could be. Qi’ra didn’t think of this as a plan in the stricter sense, but it gave her something to do. She had broken it down into tasks and completed them as she did much of the rest, step by step. She had contemplated what might come next, and after careful consideration decided he would likely have the easiest time in one of the smaller bedrooms upstairs, across the atrium from hers.

 

***

 

Maul had begun to drift as a weariness took over him. It was impossible to stay aware of the passing of time in this place. It was the faint sound of a voice that snapped his mind back into focus. The red fogbanks whirled around him in perpetual motion and he had a hard time figuring out which direction it came from until he heard another tiny sob, closer this time, he realized.

The awareness came just ahead of the sensation. He thought he felt something through the ground he was standing on — the vibration made by quick feet, rapidly approaching. The next moment that something had already bumped into his leg, now desperately clutching its small limbs around Maul’s right thigh.

The fog around him dispersed some and he saw the child. He suddenly felt colder, paralyzed by the realization before his mind could string together the unspoken words. His eyes fell on the boy he had seen in the reflection of the window. It all seemed so far away now, as did the secret hope that he would help Maul escape his predicament somehow, that this little boy in the reflection could free him from all the things that had frightened him so terribly. Maul carefully lowered himself onto his knees, taking the scared child into his embrace.   
He finally understood the choice he had been given.

 

***

 

It was no easy feat getting Maul up the stairs. Fishing him out of the bacta tank took effort enough, but his skin — still wet with the fluid —  kept sticking to the makeshift gurney made of sheets that Qi’ra tried to lay him on. She tried to manage everything while also supporting his head as it had become obvious his dorsal horns were long enough to prevent his head from lying comfortably against the unyielding surface, forcing his neck into a strained position.

She could hardly contain her frustration with the two droids, both terribly ill-suited for everything she needed their help with, and so finally getting him up the stairs and laid down on the bed felt like a major victory. Yet she hardly felt like there was anything worth celebrating.

His body laid on his back more naturally once he was resting on the bed, horns sinking into the thick, soft mattress. Qi’ra caught herself taking note of the way that the sharp tips tore at the luxurious sheets. Perhaps a sign of a growing ownership over this place, wondering how she would have to fix them once the bedding became too tattered. But she wouldn’t allow herself to follow that train of thought any further in fear of where it might lead her.

Having him laid down she set about to wash him once more. The smell of bacta hadn’t grown on her at all and left behind a sticky residue as it dried, making the sheets cling to his skin. The feeling couldn’t possibly be pleasant.

The sight of Maul’s uncovered nudity no longer caused her cheeks to flush red as it did the first time. His body had become familiar to her eyes over these several days, and she knew that the heaviness nesting in her gut was speaking of something else. The answer was slowly revealing itself as she worked her way from limb to limb, over tattoos and scars.

She let her hand roam its way down his side, over hip and thigh to knee and calf, trying to gauge change of body temperature under her touch. To her relief she couldn’t discern a considerable difference, but that was only a minor relief. In truth she realized she had no way of knowing whether the procedure had worked the way it was hoped. Maul looked intact, but whether he would see a return of function was another matter entirely.

Qi’ra found herself faced with all the thoughts she tried so hard to keep at bay. The fact remained that the bacta was now used up. There were no alternatives or backups. She didn’t possess so much as a first aid kit since the Bith took off, and scavenging the house had provided little more than some expired anti-inflammatory medication.

Certain in herself that he would wake up, the moment of truth was fast approaching, and there remained little that she could do to improve his chances past this point. The waiting and the not knowing were slowly eating away at her, because as much as it was about him, it was also about her — their fates now bound completely.

Under the pressure of the unanswered questions still hanging over her… _them_ , she realized just how wound up she was. Tired of negotiating with her fears, tired of worrying, tired of not knowing what she was supposed to do. Just… tired. Qi’ra sat down on the edge of the bed, eyeing the unconscious man, struggling to subdue the urge to seek his closeness. For a moment her mind gave into longing, and all she could think about was lying down beside him, the image of them curled up together so vivid in her mind’s eye. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder, for him to cradle her in the safety of his embrace and to tell her that it was somehow all going to be okay. She now needed to hear _him_ say it to keep believing in it.

 

***

 

Maul spotted a different kind of movement in the periphery of his vision. Around him rose a red swirl, engulfing the boy, and Maul turned as it circled him in a spiral, attempting to guard against an attack that would never come. He flinched as a flash of milky skin pierced the cloud of red — a hand reaching out towards him, holding a lightsaber. _His_ lightsaber.

The arm remained stretched out as a face appeared, looking up at him, eyes unwavering. _Her_. Fog pooled around the woman’s waist as she stepped forward, cutting a stark contrast with the red that surrounded her. Maul couldn’t help but be hypnotized by the sight.

He even failed to react to her movements and was startled by her touch when she reached for his hand, cupping it with hers. Turning it over, she placed the saber in his palm.

She gave him the smallest nod, just like she had before... _before_ … Maul strained to remember. _Her_.

 

***

 

“I’ve always found a way out, somehow. Even when I thought I’d spent my last bit of luck and that Proxima would be sure to have my hide… even-” she paused, exploring his face, “the way I ended up in Crimson Dawn… I had thought so many times that I had arrived at the end of the line. And I had been proven wrong enough times that I started believing in my ability to find a way out. Even fooled myself. I didn’t think ahead, because the present was enough,” her voice dropped into a whisper. “Now we’re here and I don’t know what to do. I need you to tell me what to do.”

The woman lifted her hand to his face, ghosting over his cheek for a moment before hesitating and pulling away, cautiously moving to take his hand instead, clasping it between hers, hoping it would lend strength to her words.

“Please wake up. Please. I’m scared. _Please._ ” With the admission came release, and she found tears rolling down her cheeks, falling on the hands entangled in her lap.

 

***

 

Finally she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes fixed on his. _“Please”_ , she pleaded. _“Please come back._ ” An understanding was taking form in Maul. He couldn’t quite say it in words, but he _knew_ — he knew he had already decided. His fingers closed around the cold metal and his mind soared.

“Qi’ra.”

 

***

 

His body wasn’t falling this time, sinking instead, his back slowly easing against something soft. It was quiet, the only sound he could distinguish was that of his own breath, but the _scent_ … catching a whiff of something in the air… Maul expected it to storm his senses or offend them in some other way, but the more he tried to make it out, the more he wanted for it to stay and not dull without leaving a trace. It was a warm blend of wood and spice, sweet and bitter, calling memories to the forefront of his thoughts. All he could conjure up were blurry images, sensations, a _feeling_ …

The fleeting presence of it held some peculiar comfort, and he needed to know why. Slowly Maul willed his eyes to open a little, the necessary effort confusing him. He didn’t have a chance to take in what he could make out of his surroundings, before he heard a sound not of his own making and felt a sudden movement travel through his torso.  
Lifting his eyes, they found _hers_ . His mind swayed like a leaf cast adrift on a stormy sea, but the sensation of her hands holding his offered an anchor to hold onto. Her face was wrought with a mix of worry and anticipation, eyes red and weary. _Is this another dream?_ He couldn’t quite tell and tensed at the thought. She was not as she had looked, but the _feeling_ was the same.  
The dream remained vivid in his mind, and in the stillness of the moment he remembered the choice he had made.


	5. Warm hands, cold feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long this update has taken, and so very thankful to those that have stuck around for it. I hope you enjoy the chapter :*

The moment seemed to extend into eternity. At some point Maul had stopped sinking and began rising into consciousness. The increasing clarity of his surroundings seemed only illusory with nothing solid to hold onto and he felt lost in sensory uncertainty. He couldn’t pull his eyes from her face and so had forgotten his hand being held in hers, the awareness arriving abruptly when his fingers reflexively curled between her palms, as if to grasp something familiar.

When he registered the softness and warmth of her touch and could regret the involuntary movement, it was already too late, and she motioned to remove his hand from its gently guarded placement.

He opened his mouth to speak, but “where” was the only word he managed to croak out audibly. “Welcome back,” Qi’ra gave a wan smile and slowly eased his hand onto the bed.

Maul’s eyes started to roam around, flicking to the side once before moving towards where his feet ought to have been. Lying flat on the bed he was unable to see himself and Qi’ra caught the growing concern in his eyes. Her help would be his only support getting through this, regardless of the outcome. It was pivotal that he remain as calm as possible.

She searched her mind for a way to segue into the unpredictable conversation ahead, and found that none of the readily available alternatives would do much in the way of helping him keep his composure long enough to listen before giving into anxiety at their situation. She shifted on the bed uncomfortably, her deep inhalation breaking the stillness of the moment, sobering them both ahead of her revelation.

“Look, I know this is counterintuitive, but I need you to stay calm and listen to me, alright,” Qi’ra said as she scooped his hand into hers again. He didn’t flinch, and it felt different now as she held his attention. “The procedure was a _success,_ as far as I am able to tell, and you… you have legs, Maul.” She waited for the briefest moment, until she saw the realization take hold in his eyes. “And well, the rest too...” following it up with a meaningful look.

“But that is not all… the… do- this Ip’re, he took the freighter, and escaped. He was gone as soon as I fell asleep that night,” the pace of her speech only picking up at Maul’s frozen expression. “I couldn’t find a way out of the door in the darkness to go after him, and-”

“Tha- _that_ night?!” he finally coughed out his interruption, seemingly more focused on the time that had passed rather than the fact that they were stranded in a place he had chosen specifically because it was nothing if not out of the way.

“How long has it been?” His brow rose in a clear expression of worry, though his voice managed to conceal most of it.

“Today would be the eight day since our arrival here.” The answer seemed to appease him for the moment.

“After I woke up and found that the... procedure had been completed… I didn’t know what else to do, so I floated you in bacta. Until early this morning, that is. I managed to get you up here only just before you woke up. I’ve contacted no one, you might want to know,” she hurried on to say. “That’s why we’re still here, and… actually I’m not sure how we are supposed to get anywhere now-” Qi’ra was stilled by his lack of response. He was just looking at her, less intensely than before, but she found no comfort in his silent scrutiny.

“Honestly I don’t quite know what to say. In my mind, I’ve had this conversation hundreds of times and you didn’t allow me to finish what I was trying to say even once.”

“I’m sure you’ve realized by now that I didn’t plan for this either,” he replied, averting his eyes.

Qi’ra looked at him, startled by his apparent willingness to confront something that had already been ghosting in the periphery of her thoughts over these last few days. “You weren’t planning to wake up, were you?” She couldn’t stop herself.

Maul’s eyes gave away something resembling gratitude for not making him say the words.

“I don’t understand... so- but then why go through all this?” she probed in her softest, most sympathetic tone, trying to lull his defensive reaction to the question itself.

“I didn’t know how to stop,” he replied laconically as if stating the obvious. Qi’ra knew now how much lay buried beneath those words and decided that she would not push the matter any further. Besides, this was as long as Maul could focus his attention on her, as it shifted back to his lower half.

Maul was now wake enough to truly _sense_ , and he could feel her weight on the bed beside him. Something… something was different now, and yet the same. He was not in as much pain as he had been in the dream; it was more of a discomfort, but it stayed in one place and did not travel past it. He couldn’t ask the question, so afraid he was of the answer.

“Let me see,” he rasped and attempted to both prop himself up on his elbows and simultaneously push the blanket off, too weak to succeed in either. Qi’ra moved to support his upper back, before he would fall back against the bed, and gathered the pillows behind him. She peeled the blanket off him completely, forgetting momentarily that he was completely nude underneath. Modesty didn’t seem to be high on the list of priorities now, though.

The look in his eyes was hard to read, but the corner of his mouth twitched treacherously. After a long moment of staring at himself, Maul let his head fall back and to the side, facing away from Qi’ra. He didn’t need to say it. There was a surge of static around them that she recognized from that first night. But he was awake, and she could see the gathering storm. Maul’s shoulders had begun to quake slightly, his breathing increasingly labored.

The surge waters of fear and rage were mingling with those of loss and hopelessness, the dark current so strong that amplification in the Force would have meant destruction. But the dream had not been entirely untrue, and what used to surround him like an electric cocoon was now barely a flutter in his chest. The defeat felt so complete to him that the oncoming wave threatened to drown him completely. He had gambled, and he had lost. _Would this be how it ends?_

Had it been the arrogance that Sidious had always punished him for that sealed his fate? He had been so foolish. The Dark side of the Force was all he had, and now he had even failed to serve it with dignity. Maul was overcome with shame and regret, too distracted to hold back the silent tears slowly welling up and spilling.

Better judgment couldn’t have stopped her now. Qi’ra’s hand rose to meet the tears trailing down his cheek, wiping them with her thumb.

“You’ve sacrificed too much to give up now,” she whispered to him. “Both your body and mind have gone through something so traumatic… I am surprised your mind is still intact at all. And you‘ve only been awake for mere minutes. Give yourself some _time_ . This is _not_ the end. I’m _sure_ of it.”

He found no lie in her eyes. She was gentle and cautious, and even if time would prove her wrong, he had nowhere to hide from her, so he allowed her words to comfort and calm him, even if only for a fleeting moment.

He had just begun to appreciate the comforting warmth of her hand on his face, when she removed it, her face reflecting her uncertainty.

“I- I don’t know much about the Force, but-” she hesitated. When the look on his face granted her permission, she ventured further. “You are able to Force-heal. It is kind of what you were already doing when the Bith operated on you, right?” Maul listened quietly, and offered a small nod in response.

Qi’ra moved to the foot of the bed. No longer afraid of his reaction or anything he might do, she instead worried that, through grasping at any available straws, she might be giving him false hope, afraid that she would cause him needless pain. _Had he not been through enough?_ There it was again, the blossoming need to protect him. She stole a quick glance in Maul’s direction and proceeded. Placing the palm of her hand flat against the bottom of his foot, she noted that it was now considerably colder than before.

“I don’t think this should be much different,” she offered with some hesitation. The sight of tissue taking form under that glass dome remained vivid in her mind. If that had been possible, who is to say that that _this_ wouldn’t be?

“I saw you grow back bone, muscle and nerve tissue. This should be like jump-starting a speeder in comparison. Besides, your skin was warm to the touch befo-” she swallowed the tail of the word, realizing what Maul remained unaware of, and that all of said touching had taken place before he had woken up. A flash of heat slapped Qi’ra across the cheeks and she didn’t need to see the strange look on Maul’s face to confirm that she was blushing.

Qi’ra suddenly found herself painfully distracted by his nudity, something she seemed to have temporarily forgotten about. But now, with him awake and his attention on her, she found it difficult to say which of them was really in a more vulnerable position. She was unprepared for the strange intimacy amplified by his apparent and yet surprising openness.

She quickly pulled the blanket over his middle, trying to remain casual, telling herself that she was not trying to find out if _everything_ worked as it was meant to, and only half-heartedly swatting away the likely course of that internal monologue.

Maul was puzzled by the change. He was too weak still to get a good reading of her in the Force, but her body didn’t lie. When he woke, she had seemed… relieved, to his surprise. Her voice betrayed her caution, but everything about her had been so warm, and _soft_. Now she was becoming skittish. He had even left himself uncovered, to make her think that nakedness was not a weakness for him, lest she think that it made him vulnerable. Then she mentioned having touched him and now she was in retreat. Maul couldn’t understand the change, because it lacked a viable cause. It was him that was exposed and vulnerable and her-

It’s when the red glow traveled down her cheeks and onto her neck that his attention was finally drawn to what she was wearing — a sheer robe that only momentarily created the illusion of coverage. He found himself annoyed by the absurd uselessness of such a thing and simultaneously trapped by the sight it offered him, momentarily confused and unable to pull away his gaze. The cascading feathers fluttering around her did nothing to still the strange feeling that overcame him.

“Reach out to me,” her voice cut through the silence in a focused attempt at distracting him from everything that had fit into the last minute, her palm pressed against his sole.  
“The Force is strong with you, and you still have it. Even I have been able to feel it."

Maul closed his eyes without argument, his mind beckoning the Force to come to him. It was different somehow. Initially he had thought it was because of what it took out of him to heal himself the way he had, as if he had temporarily depleted a resource. When he couldn’t feel the cocoon of darkness, he had assumed that something had happened to his ability to draw from the Force, not that it had changed in some other way. Now he was beginning to doubt.

In healing his body, he had drawn from a place that still harbored hope instead of drawing that power from the Dark side — a place of fear and a wish for the fulfillment of revenge. It had left an imprint on his connection to the Force. He had expected to feel this familiar presence answer his call, but instead he felt _himself_ , amplified. There was none of the menacing oppression fighting him for control, instead a far gentler presence pooling around him. Maul had been certain that it was just something else that had been broken, slowly realizing it was something else being _healed_. It was all too much to take in yet; he pushed the thought away.

For now, he accepted this new presence and began to reach. There was nothing at first, besides a wall that he couldn’t get past. But the thought of Qi’ra’s hand on the sole of his foot gave a focus to his efforts. Minutes passed, without anything. Then, something — a tingling sensation at his core that was barely distinguishable from the strain in his abdominal muscles, from the feel of sheets against his back. Encouraged, he kept pushing harder against what felt like a barrier obstructing sensation, breaking into a sweat in the process.

That barrier finally gave way and began to lose ground as Maul pushed relentlessly, sensation gradually returning. The relief was so overwhelming that even the flaring pain didn’t prevent him from pushing forward. It took what felt like forever, but finally he could make out her fingers wrapping around the bottom of his foot. Everything seemed to hurt, but he had never been more grateful to _feel_ pain. This pain was _his_ , more than anything else had ever been. He would never be able to express how profound this ownership felt.

Maul’s mind was threatening to overflow. There wasn’t anything he knew or had the energy to do to guard himself against it, so he just raised his arm to cover his face.

“It worked...” Qi’ra whispered to no one in particular, stunned by the surge of relief. Moving to sit beside him again she took hold of his wrist, tugging his arm away from his face.

“Maul, don’t think you have to hide how you feel from me. You managed something you had given up on. This changes _everything_ . It _is_ a miracle by most standards.”

If one was quiet enough, the thudding beats of three hearts could have been heard. The intimacy of this moment was hard to ignore, it was harder still for the two to avoid looking each other in the eyes where they found hesitant, unspoken confirmation. And in the closeness of this moment, the question hanging in the air pained Maul all the more.

“Why did you stay?”

Qi’ra’s body turned away from him, closing itself as some kind of a defensive reflex that wasn’t lost on the Nightbrother.

“How would I have been able to leave?” She was quick to counter with a question, as if rehearsed — unexpectedly impersonal and distant. She caught a glimpse of a slight twitch as Maul inclined his head slightly, and readied herself for a follow-up that didn’t come. She could have sworn he looked stricken at her reply and a guilt fell over her. He had needed her in this moment, when he was so vulnerable, and she had retreated from that fragile intimacy.

“Water,” he said simply, now himself closing off again. Grateful for something else to focus on, she replied gently, hoping to show him that it wasn’t her intention to take his openness for granted. “Of course! I’ll be right back.” She rose to get some water, the sheer back of her dressing gown providing a nearly unobstructed view of what little she wore underneath. He thought he might just reconsider the initial judgement of the flimsy number.

He remembered the dream. Something about it warmed him. Her, in the dream, she had made him more confident, but now… he didn’t understand. Everything about her was confusing. She felt open from a distance, but the more he opened himself, the more vulnerable he made himself, the faster she retreated from him. He couldn’t understand why it hurt when he had always relied on people wanting to keep their distance. In this moment he couldn’t keep track of things he no longer understood.

When Qi’ra returned, Maul had pulled himself into a sitting position, reclining against the headboard. She put down the tray and poured him a cup of water. He drank so eagerly she hadn’t placed the jug down before he already reached it out for her to refill. It seemed that in his thirst he had forgotten caution, only then remembering to stop to observe how his body reacted to him ingesting something now that he no longer relied on cybernetics to regulate his body.

The water had felt refreshingly cool in his mouth, but seemed to turn into an icy cascade the further down it traveled, burning in his chest. The cold reached his stomach and for a moment nothing happened other than a sole burp that managed to surface, so the following growl emerging from Maul’s stomach alerted them both. This was welcome, much like the pain had been. The uncomfortable realities of having a whole body were now something precious. Qi’ra’s temporarily furrowed brow smoothed at the escaped sound and her face lit up in a smile the like of which he had never seen on her before. She was opening again, and inexplicably the mere thought relaxed him.

“I suppose it’s about time you try to have some… food.” Qi’ra held a bowl out to him, presenting a familiar gelatinous goo. “I found this, and figured it’s what you’ve been eating,” she said sympathetically. There was really nothing appetizing about it — it neither smelled nor looked like food, and the mere thought of touching the texture resurfaced some particularly unpleasant memories in her.

Maul didn’t seem to be any more fond of it however, swatting it away with a scowl.

“No, I’m not eating that shit ever again. Hand me one of those,” he nodded towards the ration bar he spotted on the tray.

“Are you sure? I’m not at all confident that your body can handle actual food yet. You’ve had water and it seems… things are working, but-... don’t you think it’s better to be safe, rather than sorry and try… _that_ , first.”

“Give me that,” he impatiently leaned forward, wincing as his core muscles protested, and grabbed the bar she was cautioning him against. He tore the paper and ripped into it without a second thought.

“I used to think these rations tasted no better than cardboard soaked in acid rain. Who would have known.” He closed his eyes, savoring the mouthful, chewing carefully. The first solid food in longer than he cared to remember. Qi’ra observed quietly, knowing full well there was no point in trying to tell him what to do or not. She might have been in charge when he was unconscious, but she was fairly sure that the moment he had woken up, the old status quo had been reinstated, regardless of what she had experienced over this time. None of what she had time to contemplate over the past days existed for him, she had to admit.

She had drifted off while he was chewing and now snapped back to the present only to find Maul’s eyes fixed on her, a quizzical look on his face.

He seemed to tackle things as Qi’ra had when he had been unconscious, one step at a time, arranging things into a hierarchy, depending on what demanded his attention the loudest. Now that his hunger had been tended to, he needed to assess his mobility and the overall condition of his body. The man’s eyes wandered around the room, searching. To his relief, Qi’ra caught on quickly and excused herself to go find him something to wear.

Maul couldn’t wait to get up and escape the increasingly awkward silences and inevitable looks and long pauses. Her apparent ease around him made him feel increasingly out of control. This was not how people behaved around him and something about it made him simultaneously apprehensive and eager to enable these feelings. Her presence in the Force was comfortable, even comforting. Nothing about her struck as fake or scheming, but at the same time she had seemed almost defensive when he had asked why she had stayed. Surely, she could have figured out something, even if it came with considerable risk. It’s what he would have done, _wouldn’t he_?

Much to his dismay he realized that around her _he_ was different too. He realized it wasn’t perhaps as simple as he had thought. But her reluctance to give a real answer still seemed to hint that she wasn’t displaying her true feelings fully. She was like a question wrapped into a question.

*

Qi’ra first headed to one of the wardrobes, but a quick search did not provided her with anything that would fit Maul comfortably, unless he was willing to don one of the sheer, feathered dressing gowns she had set aside for herself. She decided she’d rather not go _there_.

Her mind returned to the clothes she had found in the sealed container among other personal belongings. She brushed the thought aside in hopes of giving herself extra time to come up with a case for her defense. But now that he was awake and eager to get about, that extra time might as well have been illusory. She didn’t imagine him particularly patient either, so there was no use in stalling. She retrieved the clothes Maul had secretly set aside in the crate and returned to him, hoping that the significance would slightly lessen his anger at the revelation.

It didn’t.

She walked up to him and silently held out the folded garments in her hands. Maul accepted what was offered and spent a moment blankly staring at the bundle in his hands, before erupting. Qi’ra couldn’t quite tell which she reacted to first — the threatening, low growl or the window that cracked half-way across.

“You-” he began, panting and shaking with fury, as Qi’ra took a step back. It wasn’t so much that she was afraid of him, her own sincerity and thought behind the gesture made her feel a righteous courage. But he had every right to be angry, and arguably little reason to trust her. That container contained everything he found reason to guard keenly, what little he had considered his. In just one moment old wounds had been torn open, all his fears and vulnerabilities laid out.

She was going to speak her mind and make him understand her reasons, and why it was important that she knew about everything that had just passed between them wordlessly. But the words just wouldn’t come and all she could muster was a couple of false starts as her mind blanked.

“Get out of my sight, before-” Maul growled. Still crouched in a sitting position he kept his eyes on the tunic.

Qi’ra turned and left, it was a request she didn’t dare to contest. Once in her room, she began to gather his belongings back into what remained of the torn crate. She wasn’t going to wait to return it until he came demanding first. If only there was a way not to add to what drove this man… _here_.

*

It hadn’t been long until she heard quiet footsteps out in the hall — slow but determined. From the sound of it, Maul was headed towards the library. Qi’ra was curious about what he was going to do and whether he planned to reach out through the holodesk, but she knew she needed to give him time for his anger to dissolve even a little before she faced him.

When the footsteps could no longer be heard she decided that he was distracted enough with whatever he was doing to return his belongings to his room, without being confronted in the process. She was already on her way back out of his room when she heard the sound of retching from around the corner.

Unsurprisingly, Maul’s body found it hard to accept solid food just yet. The violent nausea that overcame him prevented him from protesting Qi’ra’s help as she supported his weight, hastily walking him into the refresher. All plans of giving him space were instantly wiped from her mind. She helped him out of the tunic just before he emptied the contents of his stomach into the sink.

Maul shivered as a cold sweat broke out across his back, rocking himself back and forth as if that would do anything in the way of soothing the nausea. He’d eaten too little for there to be much to come out, but his body wouldn’t relent. There was no pain to conquer and trying to rule over reflexes that had already taken one over was a losing battle for him in this state.

But she knew exactly what to do, as if consideration had gone into this, he thought to himself.

“What did you do with the rat-” he groaned before retching again, while she was wiping down his hunched back with a damp towel.

“Don’t be an idiot, this is your _own_ doing. I told you it was a bad idea starting with rations over that gel thing,” she barked back in annoyance, having suddenly lost her patience. “You haven’t had solid food in so long and you need to be careful” her voiced softened as she offered him a cup of water to drink, then a cleaning capsule that took away the nauseating taste in his mouth. All the while making soothing circles on his back with her other hand.

As much as he wanted to protest, he couldn’t. He was too weak, she was right, and now all of the things she did were improving his well-being. He had to admit to himself that not once since meeting her had he believed he had her figured out. If anything, she only became more of a puzzle.

Moderately confident that he would keep it down, she handed him another glass of water before helping him to bed. Maul simply rolled over listlessly and let his face sink into a pillow. The lack of any confrontation on his part made Qi’ra feel guilty again, as if she had hurt him more when he was already down and vulnerable, then admonished him for his lack of trust and for trying to defend himself when he felt most exposed. Repeatedly.

She had acknowledged the trauma he had suffered in theory, but now she had to admit that she didn’t really have an understanding of what it really meant for him. And she couldn’t possibly guess the timeline for his healing.

She carefully sat down on the side of the bed. “I’ll stay here for a while, until I can be sure you won’t get sick anymore.” There was no response.

Carefully lifting her legs onto the bed, she lied down with her back to Maul. A golden gleam of light caught her eye and her gaze moved to the crack in the window, outlined by the rays of the setting sun.

Her eyes still fixed on the glimmer, a memory rose to the surface as if to taunt her. She was then standing over Maul, desperate to lie down next to him and seek comfort in his closeness. And now here she was, not at all how she had imagined, the divide between the present and what she had secretly wanted so great it made her feel a kind of shame for having wanted it at all. She was often feeling foolish these days, catching her thoughts traveling down daring paths.

She couldn’t deny the change that her thoughts had undergone in the span of the past couple of weeks. _If Han had been unreliable, what would that make Maul? And perhaps more importantly, what should it tell her about herself that she was now thinking of Maul in ways she had not thought about Han._

It was all too much to unpack at once. And most of it just stung as the two laid on the opposite sides of the bed in burdened silence, questioning just how they were supposed to think of the other.

Qi’ra had in full honesty planned to get back to her own room once she knew Maul was asleep, but her body felt like it exceeded the weight she could support. No, she didn’t _really_ want to leave, and sleep took her.

The sensation woke her with a start. She was cradled in a possessive hold, his hand on her lower belly, his arousal pressed to her backside. For a split second she wanted to struggle against it, before realizing that, _no_ , she didn’t. To feel the fragile safety and warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his two hearts — that is what she had wanted. She relaxed, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to drift. 

*

Was it the treacherous safety of falling asleep next to her? The exhaustion and longing he believed to be his weakness stood united against him, threatening to overcome him. The call of the peace she was weaving around him was stronger than his will to resist it, and unknowingly his body gave way. In this dream he had long since surrendered control, her body was a siren song and he eagerly answered the call.

Looking down at them, the sight was bolder than anything he had dared to imagine. To feel their arousal as his own embarrassed him in a particular way. This shouldn’t have been a spectacle for observation. And yet, it _felt_ like the answer to the question that her presence posed for him. The _right_ answer.

His keen ears picked up the faint slap of his member against her skin as he lowered himself between her parted thighs. His observing self was so accustomed to shame, at first he didn’t know how else to react. But the feel of him above her made Qi’ra spread her thighs wider and bring her hands to his waist, coaxing him closer. She _wanted_ him.

It was a powerful thought. It drove away the shame and allowed something else in its place. _Want_.

He licked her jawline and pressed a kiss on her throat, hypnotized by the flutter of her pulse against his lips. This Maul knew instinctively what to do to draw out the desired reaction, trailing his tongue from her neck to her breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth. Qi’ra couldn’t suppress the gasps and spread her fingers between his horns, cradling the back of his head with one hand, the other resting on his nape.

It couldn’t wait any longer. Maul shifted, aligning himself with her entrance. There was no resistance, just a thrilling stretch as the warmth of her core welcomed him. Each thrust only fanning the fire of passion, Maul fell into a kind of trance, his mind buzzing with a familiar presence. He had never felt as alive as now, the Force dancing around them, the Dark side allowing him to feel their life force as never before. His hand let go of her calf and roamed up her side, tracing the flutter of her pulse across her breast back to her throat.

The feeling of being inside her, feeling her pulse was _so right_ , _so alive._ He needed to get to the very center of it. The world fell away and there was only passion, and feeling. The darkness coiled around them as he was beginning to slip, calling him like it used to, urging him to take what fueled the passion, to allow no weakness. Catching himself at the very last moment. _No!_

Maul put all his strength into tearing his mind away from this dark fixation that was taking root. He had believed himself to be so in control, and had almost allowed this delusion to manipulate him into becoming a puppet of the will of the Dark side.

*

Snapping from the trance-like state was enough to shake him awake, and to his horror he found that his body had already given into the seduction of the dream. The assault of repressed shame and fear overpowered his senses and he didn’t even immediately become aware of his erection — the first, after so very long. She was just _right there_ and suddenly he sensed his weakness again.

He didn’t mean to, but before he could think, he had already thrust her from him. It wasn’t even to push her away, but to put physical distance between them, before he gave into that weakness. And being lighter, it was her that moved. The promise of the warmth and safety of her presence, so close only a moment ago, had been shattered.

Qi’ra was up from the bed in a blink and rushed from the room without a single glance in his direction. His reaction was like a freezing cold shower. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to prepare herself for something like this. She was mortified by his reaction. _What_ _was she thinking?!_ She couldn’t stop admonishing herself.

Qi’ra had let her guard down with him. Everything that she had learned about him sparked an interest, but also fondness and sympathy. In the span of just over a week, she had gotten to know him most intimately, learning things he would likely never reveal willingly. _A week!_ A week that he had spent unconscious.

Maul had placed his trust in her and left her in charge. A week ago she had been his lieutenant, and now… she couldn’t even face it. She somehow couldn’t revert back to the way she used to think about him. Now he was someone much different to her.

The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. How could she possibly look him in the eye after this? First, she had failed to prevent the Bith’s escape, then she broke his trust by revealing that she had gone through every painful memory he held onto. Now she practically offered herself up to him? _Had she lost her mind?_

How could she possibly rectify this embarrassing misstep? What would she even say when having to face him again? She covered her eyes with her palms as if that would prevent her mind from seeing the scene replay itself over and over in her head. _What if he had imagined someone else?_ The jealous sting of the thought added insult to injury.

The relief of reaching her room and throwing herself into the bed was only momentary. It was still morning, she had returned all his things and there was nothing for her to do in her room. She would have to get out eventually. Now that she was unpleasantly reminded of their formal relationship as commander and lieutenant, it was painfully obvious to her that avoiding him wasn’t an option. In any case, she wanted to be in the loop if he came up with any ideas to get them off of Sakhmet. It was a question of minutes, hours, that she had to face him. Her stomach grumbled in agreement. _Fuck!_

*

Maul buried his face in the pillow to muffle the groan and a series of following expletives. Could he have possibly handled himself _any_ worse? For a moment, he contemplated whether it would have been better to have scared her, instead of this way allowing her to her feel humiliated or rejected?

He knew all about fear and humiliation, about being thought mad, unstable, pitiful.

Despite anything the Sith code would have once permitted him, he despised prying into the thoughts of others. His master used it without hesitation — a most vile intrusion. The memories of his own experiences are what held him back from inflicting the same. He found adequate justification on a rare occasion only when he was made to question loyalties. He sometimes wished he had never heard those thoughts.

 _“Don’t make eye contact with him, he’s not right in the head.”_ It was where fear mixed with pity in a way that shamed him. He couldn’t tell which was worse. This made him think about all that he had stored away in latent parts of his mind, that this woman had now unearthed.

He expected to be furious, but the anger had dissolved. All he could focus on was the exquisite closeness — the kind he had not experienced before. It hurt to think about now - everything he had lost before it had ever been his. It made him acutely aware of his inability to express what and how he _wanted_ . He knew that whenever he had tried to hold onto something, he had risked crushing it in his grasp. For the first time in his life, he found himself thinking about it in advance — he really didn’t want things to turn out like everything else had. He _wanted_ her to stay, but he had no idea how to fix this.

Never before had he encountered such fragility and felt the need to protect it instead of making cruel use of it, for such is the way of the Dark side — a notion that made him feel very unlike himself. _That_ seemed to have become a recurring theme since he met her.

 _Doing_ something had clearly not worked in his favor, but the prospect of having to use his words seemed to put him at a considerable disadvantage for he was not a man good with words. And yet his intuition told him that the only way to fix this was to trust both himself and her. The situation seemed to be asking the impossible of him.

*

It had been a few days since her last visit to the greenhouse. Her knowledge of plants was rudimentary at best, so she wasn’t at all sure what she expected, but was taken aback by the sight of the defiant return of life. Qi’ra thought she’d be happier to see such perseverance, but somehow the allegory felt too obvious, her own current pessimism not allowing her to feel inspired. She couldn’t find the distraction she was looking for and left.

She was rounding the corner to the kitchen when her way was cut off by a solid mass and her face pressed into Maul’s shoulder. _There was just no way of getting around him, was there?_ Maul winced but didn’t appear entirely surprised when she finally had the courage to look at him. Eyes averted and brow furrowed, his face was turned ahead not down at her.

A half-whispered “I’m sorry” was all Qi’ra could get out. She felt shame coiling in her gut, a treacherous lump in her throat. She wanted to present herself with dignity even in defeat, but her body didn’t seem to be onboard with her plan. She had no reason to think she could predict his reaction and something about him remained menacing, regardless of how drawn to him she was. He could still make her feel cornered, stoking a primal fear.

She managed to get half a step around him when an arm came up at her waist, wordlessly stopping her in her tracks. Qi’ra shivered at his touch — firm, but without any sign of intent to hurt. To her added shame and distress, she was now almost as aroused as she was afraid, but it is that peculiar combination that gave her unexpected courage.

“Look, I don’t know what that was, bu-” she began with no small amount of bitter impatience.

“No!” Maul’s booming reply cut her off. His arm curled around her and pulled her back in front of him. Standing faced with him again, Qi’ra realized that he was looking everywhere but at her. The firmness in his hold didn’t translate into the rest of his body language. He had pulled her close, but now that she was his shoulders dropped and he was himself retreating into what appeared to be a defensive position.

“Maul,” she said softly, his eyes immediately darting to hers at the sound of his name.

“No, just.. I don’t know how to-” he searched for words as he spoke. “It’s not what I- I did not mean to push you! I don’t know- You have the wrong idea.” Confusion delayed Qi’ra’s reaction. “Yes, I know I got the wrong idea, this is what- ”

“No,” Maul insisted with unexpected warmth. “No, you had the right idea about _that_.”

Hanging his head low, he again caught a whiff of the same scent that had greeted him as he had came to, now more intoxicating than before. There was a want he didn’t know how to hold at bay without feeling like he was coming apart.

“I _wanted_ to touch you!” Maul wheezed as if he might choke on the words. “I was afraid I would lose control. Hurt you!” His lingering hand on her hip quickly reframed what all this was, and the confirmation allowed her to relax.

“I _still_ do. Want to,” he whispered, looking down.

“And I _still_ want you to.” Her hand found a way to his on her hip, and in one long caress into the loose sleeve of his tunic to gently stroke his arm. Maul didn’t need anything else to close the remaining distance between them, and pressed her to himself. He felt nervous, but it felt so good this time, the tension between them falling away.

Surprised by the embrace, she returned it in a moment, splaying her hands behind his back. Resting her head against his chest confirmed how things had changed from earlier. The stuttering beat of his two hearts betrayed his anxiousness twofold.

They stood like this for a moment, wordlessly reveling in the restored closeness they both regretted jeopardizing just a short while ago. When the thudding in his chest started to calm, she willed herself to pull away enough to look at him. He had to see it on her face, in her eyes — she wanted him.

Her hands released the hold around him and traveled from back to front and up to the collar of his tunic. Hooking her fingers there, she pulled him down while rising to the balls of her feet to meet him. Looking at her and away from her were equally hard for Maul — this is what he had wanted, but somehow the promise of it scared him.

His breath quickened as her fingers caressed up his neck and traced his jawline to the back of his head. _Would she really?_ He closed his eyes in wait, just in time to feel the touch of her lips against his.

Soft, delicate, gentle — everything new to him, all at once. He expected a dark surge to rise from the periphery of his awareness and to cast a shadow on the light he had found. So had it ever been. For a moment he sensed a malignant flicker in the back of his mind, right before it expired under her gentle caress and the embrace of her lips.

He felt Qi’ra soften in his arms, and found himself emboldened with the courage to leave no room for ambiguity. He allowed her to lead, fumbling along eagerly, desperate to please but in no rush. They were in sync at last. She had to know how much he wanted her.

The couple lingered in the hallway in a swaying embrace, reluctant to move or stop. It was the loud, hungry grumbles of their very empty stomachs which stilled the passionate exploration. Qi’ra pulled away a little to look at him, giving his lips a final peck before allowing her heels to touch the ground again.

“There’s no skipping meals.” Qi’ra took his hand, leading him towards the kitchen. “We’ll need the energy,” she whispered, eyes twinkling.


End file.
